


If I Could Never Give You Peace

by rooster_crow



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coronation, Ding dong the witch is dead, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Post-Canon, Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26723035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rooster_crow/pseuds/rooster_crow
Summary: Alex and Henry have moved into the brownstone together, June and Nora are living in NYC with them, Alex is crushing law school, everything is going great. Right?Upheaval hits the royal family by way of Queen Mary’s death. Henry has to ask himself some big questions, like if Alex will be happy living out their lives together in the Royal spotlight. Alex might have some answers about how this all should go.Title from peace by Taylor Swift, because of course it is.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, June Claremont-Diaz/Nora Holleran/Percy "Pez" Okonjo
Comments: 100
Kudos: 124





	1. come and gone

A car door slammed outside, and Alex glanced up from his book out the window. He steeled himself for a second, reminding himself of his new reality that he still was not quite used to. His Royal Highness, Prince Henry of England, was jogging up the front steps outside Alex’s door. It also happened to be Henry’s door, and Henry pulled out his keys, turned the lock, and stepped unceremoniously through the door. They had been living together for eight months now, and Alex told himself he would likely never get over the thrill of Henry coming home to him. So far, he was right.

  
“Hi, love,” Henry smiled at him, placing his shoes on the rack at the door.  
“Hi.” Alex tried not to act too excited. Like he had his own life and stuff going on, you know, like he wasn’t just waiting for Henry to come home all day.  
“Get enough work done today?” Henry had reached Alex now, and kissed him quickly on the lips before settling in beside him on the couch.  
“I did, yeah. Barely. But I can be done now if you want to make dinner together?” Alex kissed Henry again. And then once more for good measure. Alex knew that making dinner together really just meant Henry would sit in the kitchen with him while he did most of the preparation, but he didn’t care even a little bit. Growing up in a castle had stunted Henry’s growth as a cook, however, he was always more than happy to clean up and do the dishes. Or as Henry called it, the "washing up". Alex loved the sight of Henry with his sleeves rolled up, almost up to his elbows in suds and dishwater. There was something painfully domestic about it that made his chest tight, his heart just about to burst at the confirmation that this man was really his, and his to keep.

  
Alex got to work as Henry placed the needle on his favourite record from The National, and they caught each other up on their days. Nothing much had transpired for Alex, as he only had one class in the morning, and it was, as he put it, a bit of a snooze-fest. He had seen a three-legged greyhound on his walk home, though, so that was pretty exciting. Henry, on the other hand, had had somewhat of a whirlwind day at the youth shelter, which was not at all unusual. The first few months, while a raging success, had also come with a whole host of unforeseen issues that Henry nor Pez had quite anticipated. They had finally nailed down the staffing team and a programming schedule at the last minute before the doors were officially opened six weeks ago, but that was only the beginning. There were vendor contracts, community partnerships, bureaucracy, and metrics to report. The New York chapter was meant to be something of a pilot project, and would be a sort of flagship model for the rest of the shelters around the world. There was a great deal of pressure riding on it. Alex knew just how much of this pressure Henry was feeling, as it frequently manifested in restlessness and sleepless nights. It also resulted in some pent-up energy that Alex was all-too happy to be on the receiving end of on many of those said sleepless nights.

  
“Anything you want to do tonight?” Henry asked between bites of his beans and rice, Alex's go-to Mexican dish.  
“Like. Socially? Or like. Sexually.” Alex deadpanned back at Henry, his face then breaking into a grin both crooked and a little mischievous.  
“Socially, Alex. I can’t remember the last time we did something with friends. Just to let loose, you know, what with everything going on.”  
“We did stuff for your birthday! And we’re going to do stuff for my birthday too! I mean, I hope we are. I would assume you’re planning something. But now I’m worried.”  
“Okay. Yes. Besides birthdays. Like, just going for a drink at Marie’s Crisis or something. Low key but still fun.”  
“I know… it just takes so much effort now, and it just means arranging PPOs and bugging Cash and… yeah. I hear it now. I’m old and boring!”  
“You’re not old. You’re literally twenty-three. But we don’t have to go out. Maybe we can just have some people over?”  
“And by some people you mean Pez and Nora and June.”  
“Yeah, those people.”  
“Have you considered that maybe they have their own plans tonight? Like. A date or something?”  
  
Alex raised his eyebrows at Henry over his glasses, trying to gauge his reaction. Alex loved hanging out with the three of them, and even more so when Bea was in town. And so did Henry, truly, but Henry had yet to reveal any sort of feelings about his best friend dating both Alex’s sister and Alex’s ex-girlfriend turned best friend. Alex idly wondered if it was just some sort of leftover pearl-clutching royal instinct that ruffled Henry’s sensibility around throuples, but he hadn’t really felt the time had come up to properly ask. Henry didn’t act any different around them than he used to, though, so it clearly wasn’t too big of a deal.  
“I’ll have you know that it did occur to me, which is why I already texted Pez to ask if they were free. So with your permission, your imminence, I will request their presence at our abode for 8 o’clock tonight?” Alex rolled his eyes at Henry’s stuffy formality, though he had to admit the pompousness turned him on a little. The words just sounded so good in his stupidly sexy accent.  
  
“Sure. But I refuse to play Scattergories with Nora.”  
“You’re just bitter about last time when she cancelled out your double-point lapis lazuli answer for the Things In The Ocean category.”  
“So what if I am? I don’t want to give her the satisfaction!”  
“Okay, no Scattergories. Any other stipulations I should tell them about?” Henry smiled into his wine glass.  
“No.” Alex pouted. They finished dinner without any further debate or incident, with Henry taking to his clean-up post at the sink. Alex got to puttering around the house, putting away his laptop and books, wiping down the bathroom, and throwing all of the toys David had strewn across the floor back into their allocated basket. He had just sat down on the couch with David beside him and a bottle of Shiner in hand when the doorbell rang.  
  
“Alex!” June shrieked as she kicked off her shoes and clambered over Nora and Pez to wrap Alex in a hug. “I’m so happy you’re actually like, seeing real human people tonight!”  
“Henry is human people.” Alex protested.  
“You know what I mean.” June waved her hand dismissively. “I need a drink!” She announced, already half way to the kitchen to pour herself a glass. Alex raised his eyebrows at her partners, who had started to settle into the living room furniture.  
“Rough week, if I can speak for her,” Nora gave a tight smile.“I don’t want to talk about it!” June called from the kitchen, while Nora mouthed “press stuff” at Henry and Alex. Being the White House Trio still came with its burdens, and while June typically revelled in the ridiculousness of tabloids, recent speculations into the nature of June, Nora, and Pez’s relationship had hit a previously untapped nerve. June was hard at work on her memoir and didn’t need the prying into her personal life to go further than she was willing to share in a published work.

  
“It’s okay, Bug,” Alex said as June settled herself between him and Henry on the couch, wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim of her overfilled glass. “We are gathered here today to have fun and get drunk and definitely not play Scattergories.” Nora shot him an accusatory look before tucking herself under Pez’s arm. They soon lost themselves in idle chatter, catching up on matters left out of the group chat, talking shop about international affairs, and teasing each other relentlessly. Before long, they were planning their next grand outing, agreeing that they would all meet Bea in Montreal for a weekend getaway at some point in the coming months. Canada was an easy getaway, especially for royals, given the constitutional monarchy and everything. Plus, it was close enough to travel for the weekend but far enough to feel like an actual vacation. Alex was just delighted that he would get to hear Henry put his French to good use, but Henry quickly informed him that the French accent in Canada could hardly be considered French by France standards.

“Well, excusez-moi!” Alex cried, barely containing his laughter. Henry had been right — he did need this. Having the space to decompress made Alex realize just how much he had been missing that joyous human connection he had with his friends, with his family. There was no need to put on a show, or a bright smile, or a professional and publicly appropriate demeanour. He didn’t even need to think about his performance in school, his future career, or what anybody thought of him. He could just be Alex, and that could be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** The lapis lazuli thing is obviously derived from real life events because that's way too specific to have been made up.  
> Also very sorry if anyone reading is from Quebec, Henry’s European snobbery entered the chat!
> 
> Anyways, thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoy / stick around for future chapters whenever they decide to appear!
> 
> EDIT: I changed the amount of time Henry & Alex have been living together because my own timeline didn't make any sense and also Alex's age to 23 because, again, it made no sense for continuity.


	2. courage of my convictions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Super Six make their way around downtown Montreal for a pleasant afternoon, until some guy who really doesn't like the monarchy comes along. Also introduces some new PPOs that I made up. 
> 
> This one is a bit slower paced before we get into the main action of the story, so bear with me for now! 
> 
> Content warning for swearing/minor confrontation.

**AG/CD**

“are you going to be here soon or what”

**AG/CD**

“i stg we will leave without you”

**The Bug**

“Yes holy Jesus I’ll be like 5 more minutes”

**The Bug**

“Also just saw one of those black Mercedes from the Handmaids Tale when I was getting in the car so I might actually get kidnapped”

**His Royal Fucking Highness**

“run Ofpercy, run!”

**irl chaos demon**

“wow, how do we know she’s not Ofnora?”

**the only sane one here**

“You guys are sure making me excited to hang out with you this weekend. (: ”  
  


Sure enough, five minutes later, June stepped out of the black Lincoln with her bags and onto the tarmac where everyone was waiting for her. Pez and Nora only berated her for a minute or two once they realized they had saddled her with the task of closing up the apartment upon leaving early to grab coffees from their favourite cafe. It was at this point that June frantically realized that their plants needed to be watered, and then upon exiting and arming the ‘away’ security system, needed to head back inside for her laptop, which she had somehow forgotten. “You never know when you might get a stroke of genius for your future New York Times bestseller. Or whatever.” she said with only a minimal amount of side-eye. The book deal had been a real blessing for June, who felt like she finally had the artistic freedom to say what felt true and important to her. On the other hand, Alex could see the pressure it had placed on her. Knowing she was offering herself up to the public eye in such a dramatic way heightened her reactions to how people perceived her, and she was excruciatingly hard on herself to prove that it was going to still be an outstanding book in its’ own right. First Daughter status be damned.

Even though the turnaround for planning was tight, the trip came only a short two weeks after they initially conceived the idea at the brownstone. It was decided it would serve as a birthday celebration for Alex, given that he wouldn’t be seeing Bea for another few months. As for the flight up to Montreal, it would be quick and not even cause any jet lag, but of course they had to fly privately, and securely. Alex hadn’t even bothered to bring any in-flight entertainment because he wanted to curl up against Henry and watch him finish his crossword. He had to point out that he had been very well behaved, and didn’t suggest even a single answer despite the fact that he definitely knew a bunch. It seemed like everyone was in great spirits, finally relaxing after dealing with the every day stressors of their lives. Even the PPOs seemed to be in better moods than usual. Cash, to his credit, had only complained once about the choice of locale for their excursion. He had, however, made quite a big show of putting on his new beanie onto his “very cold bald head” once they landed.

The group made their way to the hotel, which was upscale enough to pass the security precautions, but nothing too ostentatious. Bea had already arrived, and smartly opted for her own room. Once she deposited her bags and freshened up, she made herself comfortable on Henry and Alex’s bed while everyone else changed out of their travel clothes into outfits much more befitting of six of the most well-known young adults in the world. She repeatedly told Henry that his outfit choice was too stuffy, and wouldn’t let him leave without giving his hair a good natured toussle.  
“You look like a Ken doll.” she quipped, as Henry attempted, without luck, to dodge out of her way.

When they ventured back into the cold, PPO’s tailing at a comfortable distance, Henry had steered them directly to a falafel joint that he had researched beforehand. Apparently Montreal had falafel that could rival even the best in London; a point to which Henry shockingly agreed, as Alex wiped a smudge of garlic sauce off of his perfect face. There was something so perfect, almost surreal, about seeing Henry out in the world like this. In the year and several months since he had been outed, publicly and traumatically to the world, Henry hadn’t just grown; he had blossomed. The comfort that he had begun to feel in his own skin simply radiated, and the Henry that Alex knew in the privacy of their own homes became the Henry that the public began to see as well. It was a transformation that he may not have thought possible when they first got together, but Alex felt honoured to have witnessed it. Henry’s public smiles were now genuine, his interviews candid, open, and grateful. He had even began to experiment with his style, growing out his hair a bit, occasionally wearing nail polish, or clothing with sparkle, much to the Queen’s chagrin. Of course there were days where he still struggled, the sadness deep within him making even the smallest tasks unbearable, but there were also days of pure joy unlike those he had ever experienced. And Alex was there through all of it, supporting him, standing beside him, or behind him, whatever Henry needed. But being here, being out in the open, showing affection without fear, with Prince fucking Henry, well. Alex wished he could savour moments like this forever. The falafel didn’t hurt either.

Alex slipped his hand into Henry’s as they walked through the Gay Village, blissfully happy and ignoring the occasional local who stopped to gape at them. There were a few who pretended to be taking selfies that they could always tell were actually trying to snap a picture, but Alex was honestly too content to care all that much about it. The sky was cloudless and the air had that perfect crisp air of springtime that Alex had come to love, having never experienced it growing up in Texas. They admired the old buildings, while Bea pulled out her film camera and snapped a few shots of the rest of the crew, the last of which they all posed in stereotypical cheesy tourist fashion in front of a street sign for Rue Sainte-Catherine.

“I didn’t realize your mother was a Saint on top of being royal!” Pez joked, “And to think I have been so informal with her all of these long years.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst. But she’s going to love this picture even though it’s super dumb.” Bea said, tucking her camera back into her leather Hermès bag. “Okay. It’s Friday night. What are we doing now?”

“I don’t know, what did we come here to do?” Pez asked as he turned to look at Alex. “It’s supposed to be your birthday celebration.”

“This is true. Everyone needs to do my bidding.” Alex said thoughtfully, “What can I make y’all do for me?”

Henry responded first. “Darling, you know I can’t force Justin Trudeau to make an appearance whenever I want him to, right?”

“Very funny. But actually, I’m over Trudeau now anyways, babe, so you don’t have to get all jealous on me. Something about buying pipelines and breaking promises to Indigenous communities that still have boil water advisories makes a man much less sexy.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” Henry said with a wry smile. Alex stole a quick kiss from him while he contemplated their next move. It seemed most appropriate to head out to a bar, have some drinks, eat some food, and keep the rest of the night low-key. He didn’t need anything too extravagant, and he didn’t need to make things overly complicated for their security teams, either. Before Alex could grab Cash to plan out the rest of their night, a large, bearded man walked right up to their group and began yelling at them in earnest. He had swaggered up out of nowhere, and they were all taken slightly off guard, the PPOs springing to action a bit over-dramatically. Alex couldn’t make out much of what he was saying, except for “reine”, which he knew meant the Queen. By the way Henry’s skin was rapidly becoming flushed, it couldn’t have been anything too flattering. Alex’s eyes darted away from Henry only for a moment to catch Pez step defensively in front of Bea as the PPOs tightened a circle around them.

“I’m going to need you to back up, sir—” Henry’s most threatening officer, Aaron, put his arm out to bar their assailant from approaching any further. The man let out a wild, strangled sounding laugh as he pushed up against Aaron’s arm.

“Fuck you, lib scum, we don’t need your fucking monarchy here and we sure as hell don’t need the fucking United States up in our damn business either! You pretend like you’re so progressive but you’re just fucking hypocrites!” His blue eyes were frantic and wide as he glared at Alex and Henry, his stare piercing in the now-fading daylight. He spat on the ground for emphasis— Alex was pretty sure he heard Pez mutter “Ew.” under his breath.

“Listen, sir, if you don’t walk away right now, you are going to be in serious trouble. I can call the cops, we can keep doing this dance, or I can fight you, whatever you’d like. But I can assure you, it’s not going to end in a way that you’d like.” Aaron held his ground against the man, eyeing him down from his own six and a half feet of stature, and gave him an almost devilish grin. The man shoved up against Aaron again. “I’m sorry. Do I need to say that again in French, or did you catch my drift?” The man glared back up at Aaron, but then registered the rest of the PPOs, and seemed to calculate being at a rather significant disadvantage.

“I can escort you, if you’d like.” Cash said, gripping onto the man’s arm, and began to lead him away.

“Get the fuck off me! _Merde!_ ” the man cried. He wrenched his arm from Cash’s grip and took off down the street.

“Have a nice night!” Cash called after him, tone light, but Alex could see that the tension had not yet left his shoulders until the man was down the block and out of sight.

“Everyone good?” June’s officer, Celeste, asked. She scanned everyone’s faces, then their surrounding area, before taking her hand off of her pepper-spray holster.

“You know that shit’s not legal here, right?” June mumbled.

“Ask me if I’m afraid of the crown.” Celeste smirked, quoting Ellen, as they all often did. Everyone let out a collective sigh, then Nora abruptly burst into laughter at the sheer relief of avoiding any further confrontation. There was a sudden gust of wind, and Alex felt a shudder come over his body, though not entirely brought on by the cold. He tucked himself against Henry’s chest, face in his signature Burberry scarf. Feeling Henry’s hand on the back of his neck, he relaxed into his safe place for just a moment. Of course these kinds of things came with the territory of being a public figure, but ever since coming out, it made these kinds of interactions scarier, never knowing when someone’s violence may be redirected through their homophobia. They were lucky this time, but Alex figured they wouldn’t always be.

“Alright, love?” Henry murmured into Alex’s hair.

“Yeah. I’m good. I think it’s about time we had a drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading a second chapter - this is my first piece of writing I've even endeavoured to make with chapters, so I hope you all are enjoying it. I'm also super new here so I love when people say hello / leave kudos! 
> 
> Don't worry, the smut will come eventually, we've just gotta set the scene first. ;)
> 
> EDIT: Because I did not do my research well enough before this story got underway I had to edit the trip from being an early celebration of Alex's birthday to being an actual celebration because it's only 2 weeks after Henry's anyways. Sorry sorry sorry.


	3. just around the corner, darlin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Super Six hit the town. And then they get some news.

They arranged for their town car to come pick them up and take them to the bar Bea had picked. The group agreed that if she wasn’t going to be partaking in the drinking, she should at least be allowed to select the location in which she had the privilege of watching everyone else become belligerent. They all piled into the black Suburban, and Nora became squashed between Pez and Alex in the back seat.

“Move over, you’re poking me with your boob.” Alex whined.

“I’m not _poking_ you with it, I’m not Kim Possible!” Nora snapped back, pushing herself further into Alex’s personal space.

“Why are you the worst?”

“I come by it honestly.”

“Will y’all shut up for like, ten seconds?” June called to them from the middle row.

“NO!” Nora and Alex yelled in unison, dissolving into a fit of laughter. The bubble of pressure of the altercation only a few moments back had popped, turning them into relieved messes that were a little outrageously silly. They certainly were forcing the group along, trying to make their emotions run high in a more positive direction. Henry hadn’t relaxed just yet; Alex could see the clench of his jaw stay strong as they wove their way through the old city streets. Alex leaned forward to place a kiss on the back of his neck, the only place he could really access. In return, Henry reached his arm around the back of his seat to touch Alex’s knee for a brief moment, and the gentle touch felt reassuring. Henry was okay, but he just needed a little bit longer for his anxiety to come back down. The car finally came to a stop just outside the bar, which looked rather nondescript, which was likely what had drawn Bea to it. Despite being a princess with a penchant for designer handbags, Bea was gritty in a way that always impressed Alex. Her taste in music was of course a dead giveaway for how positively un-royal she could be, but her choice in bars, clubs, experimental performance art shows and music venues certainly would not impress nobility. Alex could just picture the Queen turning up her nose at the very idea of this hole in the wall.

They watched through the tinted windows as Cash and Nora’s assigned PPO, Andrea, surveyed the area, and then slipped inside the front door to secure the inside of the bar. A few minutes later, Aaron appeared at the door of the car to escort them inside, the rest of the officers trailing behind them. Luckily, the crowds of people inside were too invested in their own conversations to turn and stare at their group as they walked in, although a few eyes flicked over their security team. Alex guessed the people here didn’t frequently have celebrities visit, or were not invested enough in popular culture to care. The six of them slid into a corner booth, and not even minute passed until a server came up to their table for their orders. She was wearing a tight black tank top despite the weather, with high-waisted jeans and Doc Marten boots. Her arms were covered with tattoos.

“Hi, I’m Romy,” she introduced herself in a heavy French accent, “What can I get for everyone tonight?”

“5 tequila shots, doesn’t matter what brand,” Alex said to her. “Everyone else can order for themselves.” He gave his friends a sly grin. “Just kidding. But this should be good to get us started.”

“Might as well add a pitcher in, too. Just an IPA… something local?” Pez said next.

“And I’ll have a ginger ale, please.” Bea added, not meeting Romy’s eyes.

“Absolutely. I’ll be right back.” Romy smiled at her, and as she walked back to the bar, she looked over her shoulder to look at Bea again.

“Ummm, what was that?” Nora teased, leaning across the table to grab Bea’s hands. “Did the server just undress you with her eyes?! What is UP?!” Bea blushed profusely, her face, chest and the tips of her ears flushing pink, the same way that Henry’s does when he’s embarrassed. _Or turned on_ , Alex thinks, his mind wandering to the last time he had Henry underneath him.

“Okay, everyone, that's enough of that!” Bea said dismissively, snapping Alex’s mind back to attention. She seemed a little flustered, and the group humoured her by shifting the focus to making fun of Pez for something instead. Alex had thought about how Bea hadn’t ever dated anyone since they met, and the few times she had brought up past relationships, she never alluded to being interested in meeting anyone new. Besides, it’s not like dating was easy in her position. With the addition of meeting someone who understood and supported her sobriety, Alex didn’t exactly envy Bea in a search for a partner. But then Romy was back with their drinks, leaning in front of Bea probably a little more than she needed to.

“So I’ve guessed you are not from around here. And are, apparently, important,” she jerked her head in Aaron’s direction, where he stood stoically at the front of the bar. “What brings you to Montreal?” She said Montreal in the way that only Francophone’s do, _Mo-ray-ahl_ , and Alex could see the blush coming back to Bea’s cheeks.

“Just came to hang out for the weekend, I’ve actually never been before. The primary motivation was the bagels.” Nora offered. Since they weren’t being dramatically recognized, it was always best to be friendly but keep the information limited as much as possible, though everything she said was true. Romy smiled at her politely, and turned her eyes back to Bea.

“What about you? How are you liking it so far?” Alex wasn’t quite sure if he’d ever seen Bea like this before, her complexion veering into truly red territory. She took a sip of her ginger ale to buy herself a second to compose herself, and stunningly responded with, “Um. Yeah. It’s quite good. I mean.It’s lovely. I think we’d like to climb up the mountain to the cross later, I think. Right guys?” She turned and grimaced at June, looking for encouragement.

“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea, Bea,” June said generously, “But for now. We drink.” She raised her shot glass to clink on the side of Bea’s ginger ale, knocked it back, and expertly sucked on a lime wedge to finish it off. Everyone else followed suit with their tequila, Henry protesting much more than everyone else.

“Okay, well, Bea and friends,” Romy smiled wickedly down at the princess, “Let me know if you need anything.” As she walked back to the bar, Bea slid her back down the wooden bench to slump in her seat, pressing her hands over her face and groaning.

“Bea! Get your shit together! That woman is SO into you!” Nora teased.

“Yeah but like. What am I going to do about it? I can barely even get Aaron and Parker to leave me alone long enough to have a wee, let alone— um. Do whatever it is what I would do with her. Then slap her with an NDA and cheerio? Give her my Instagram and watch as she either runs for the hills or decides she wants to use me to live in the lap of luxury forever?”

“Woof.” Alex said, placing his hand on top of Henry’s where it lay on the table. “Listen. Bea. You sound a little cynical, which, given your circumstances, is totally fair. But she is also undeniably very attractive. And it’s also none of our business so, whatever you wanna do, we will support you.” He grips Henry’s hand with a little more pressure. “Right, babe?”

“Right.” Henry gave a tight lipped smile.

“Also, Bea, not to be insensitive, but like, did we know that you were into girls? Has this been a thing? Although to be fair, it doesn’t really track that our group of friends would have a straight person in it, so. I guess that one’s on me.” Alex could feel June’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his head as he attempted very deliberately not to look at her. Pez stifled a giggle after receiving a swift slap on the arm from Nora.

“Well. I guess it’s a bit more complicated than that. I don’t really talk about it because well. Henry’s been Henry. Sorry luv. But you know it’s true, and what with the international sex scandal, like, the media can only handle so much… It’s just. I didn’t think it would really _behoove_ us in any way for me to also openly be…” She swizzled her straw around her glass, pausing thoughtfully. The sound of the ice seemed loud in the empty space the hovered between them. “I’m bi-romantic, but… I’m actually ace. So. That’s just not a thing we royals talk about, is it? I mean, me and Haz have talked about it, but he’s been sworn to secrecy—”

“Oh Bea, I’m so happy you told us!” June said, her eyes looking a little misty as she threw her arm across Bea’s shoulder. She pulled her into an awkward side hug.

“Really, Bea. Thank you. I didn’t mean to put pressure on you, I’m sorry I was being a bit of a—” Alex started.

“A numpty?” Henry finished.

“A tosser!” Pez added.

“A right git!” Bea concluded, and everyone collapsed into laughter. They continued the rest of their night like this, trading jokes, enjoying each others company, feeling completely overjoyed and appreciative to all be in the same place and time zone. There are some things FaceTime just can’t replicate, and this feeling was one of them. Henry finally eased back into his skin, and allowed himself to enjoy whatever drinks Alex and Pez ordered for him. Romy kept close attention to their needs, and chatted with them a little more than she was with any of the other tables, unmistakably making eyes at Bea every time. When Alex decided that it was time to head out, Pez declared that he was going to pay for everything, leaving Romy with an absolutely astounding tip. Her eyes may have even left her head when she picked up the receipt after dropping some cellophane-wrapped spearmints on their table. Alex made a bit of a show of slowly putting his jacket and gloves back on, deliberately ensuring there would be enough time for Romy to lay on her last ditch attempt at wooing Bea. Romy sidled up beside her, and whispered in Bea's ear. Bea smiled shyly and watched with what Alex could only describe as nervous terror while Romy scribbled something on the back of the receipt. She shoved it into Bea’s hand, and allowed her fingers to trail up Bea’s wrist as she walked away. Bea, however, remained at a complete standstill in absolute shock. She locked eyes with Henry, and mouthed “HELP ME!” to him rather dramatically, so he rounded to the back of the bar again to pull Bea along with him. Henry was able to steer her out to the sidewalk, where the PPOs were leading them in a line back to the car.

“Let’s go to the mountain now,” he said to her.

“It’s past midnight!” Bea replied.

“Oh, child’s play. This is Alex’s birthday we’re talking about!”

“I can hear you talking about me!” Alex called from the front of the pack.

“Yes, we know, you have excellent hearing. Mountain?” Henry called back.

Alex let out a loud _whoop_ in response. They piled back into the car, sloppy and giggling, until they tumbled back out at the Mount Royal lookout. Cash had absolutely refused to let them do the hike at this time, and, Alex suspected, at this low of a temperature. He said he would permit them, however, to walk down the trail to the giant cross monument, mostly because they would not take no for an answer.

The wind whipped around them as they made their way to the ledge of the lookout, the whole city laid out below them. The glow off of the buildings was beautiful, and the sky returned it’s beauty with equal measure. Alex wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or his lack of glasses that made them twinkle, all fuzzy around the edges, but either way, it seemed almost ethereal in its magic. They very rarely had moments like this, so quiet but full of life, back home in New York. It was like a blanket muffled out all of the noise to allow them this little slice of comfort together. For a brief second, Alex allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to feel like this all the time, that same feeling of contentedness that he found when he lost himself in the love of his friends and family. Quiet, anonymous, sure of himself… almost peaceful.

“S’pretty, isn’t it?” June slurred into Alex’s shoulder. “We should take s’pictures!” Without any hesitation, Alex laid himself down across the concrete ledge in his best “Draw me like one of your French girls” pose. He smiled devilishly at Henry, accentuating his body with a flourish. But Henry’s face fell when he pulled his phone out of his pocket.   
  
“The battery is dead!”

“Probably too bloody cold for it out here,” Bea said, with no alcohol in her system to keep her warm or brutishly bold, “I left mine in the car ‘cause I figured it wouldn’t survive out here.” Pez draped his arm around her shoulder, and slurred something in her ear, causing her to let out a rather unflattering snort. 

“It’s fiiiiiiine,” he drawled, and moved to hand Henry his phone, “You can use miiiiine!” He twirled away from Henry, and stumbled up onto the ledge to join Alex in an equally ludicrous position. June and Nora quickly scrambled up as well, shrieking with laughter, as they pretended to be models in increasingly strange configurations. Eventually, they tired themselves out and Alex made his way back into Henry’s arms. The group traipsed down the path, hand in hand like school children, down to the clearing with the Cross of Mount Royal. When they finally, clumsily, made it there, they stood shoulder to shoulder, leaning against each other. Staring up at over a hundred feet of steel, illuminated by bright white lights, Alex suddenly felt quite small, but not in a way that made him feel insignificant. Just the right size; a small but special speck in a rather infinite universe. They enjoyed the still silence, and Alex could feel Henry’s breath warm on the side of his face just before he stuck a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Happy birthday, Alex.” Bea said quietly. Just about nothing could ruin this moment.

The sound of vibrations cut through the air, and Alex quickly realized that it was his phone ringing.

“It’s like, almost 2 a.m.! Who could possibly be calling me?” He pulled his glove off in a hurry, reached into his pocket, and exclaimed, “Your mom?! Hen, why on earth is your mom calling me?” But Henry and Bea didn’t respond. He slid his finger across the screen to unlock it. “Hey Catherine, what’s up?”

“Alex. Alex, are you with Henry and Bea?” Catherine answered, her voice coming out frazzled on the speaker, loud enough for everyone circled around Alex to hear.

“Yeah? Why, what’s wrong—”

“Alex. I need to speak with them now, please. They weren’t picking up their phones, either of them,” her voice started to escalate in volume and panic levels, “Alex. Sorry dear, can I please speak with my children.” she finished, not a question, but a demand. His stomach started to churn, and when his eyes met Henry’s, the look of fear was painted clearly on his face, even in the darkness. Bea was the one to finally grab the phone from Alex’s hand, and pull Henry away from the rest of the group.

“Mum. Hi. It’s me,” Alex heard Bea say as she paced to the other side of the clearing, Henry’s jacket cuff in the hand that wasn’t pressing the phone into her ear. She clung to it like the pressure might make her mother speak faster. Alex wanted to go over and hold Henry, who looked positively lost, but he willed himself to give the siblings privacy, and huddled up into June instead. No one said anything. It felt like hours, but it may have been minutes, and each one felt agonizing. He looked quickly over at Parker, who was now mumbling into their headset, forehead creased in concentration. Then he looked to Cash, who stood guard at the entrance to the small plateau, who shrugged in response.

Alex watched as Bea ended the call, and her arm dropped like dead weight back down to her side. Her eyes never left Henry’s. Alex rushed over to them, and immediately took hold of Henry’s arm, searching his face for any indication of what the call from Catherine had meant.

“Guys… what was that about? Why was she calling? What happened?”

“It’s Gran.” Bea said, looking at Alex, and then back to Henry again. She was almost breathless. “She's dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I've appreciated all of the kudos and bookmarks and comments so far, it truly warms my cold heart. 
> 
> This is where the story really "starts", so if you're along for the ride, welcome aboard! Sorry absolutely not sorry for killing the Queen of England, this is how things get interesting.


	4. brittle heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Super Six touches down in London. And they've got some seriously quick learning to do about royal protocol.

“Whatcha doing?” Alex asked Henry, as he leaned over to look at Henry’s iPad. He had just woken up from a rather restless nap as they cruised across the Atlantic Ocean.

“I’m watching a documentary from that indie movie theatre in Queens… it’s about rare booksellings,” Henry told him.

“Wow… Sounds thrilling,” Alex said back, his voice drenched in sarcasm.

“It’s good! I swear!”

“Nah. My version of the Irishman,”

“Nope. The Irishman is your version of the Irishman. It’s terrible.” Henry smiled, and gave him a quick kiss. He really hated that movie. 

Alex leaned back into his seat. He was seriously kicking himself for not bringing anything to keep him occupied, but he really had not been anticipating having to fly to England amidst his birthday weekend trip in order to attend to the sudden death of the Queen. Truthfully, he did have readings for school in his iCloud that he could access on his phone, but he didn’t really feel like doing them. He looked at Bea passed out in the seat across from Henry, mascara smudged to her temple from where she’d rubbed her eyes, and then to his sister, who had fallen asleep on Bea’s shoulder. Nora and Pez were watching something together on Pez’s laptop, though both of them were fighting to stay awake.

Henry had told them that they didn’t need to come, and that someone should at least enjoy the vacation they had originally planned. Of course he had been met with protests and offers of support, but Nora also rather bluntly pointed out that this was the plane they had intended on taking home. It would have been more than possible to arrange for another to come get them for Sunday, but Pez insisted on being there to support his best friend. Alex was secretly relieved. He wasn’t exactly sure how to support Henry right now, and it was assuring to have the team together as back up in case he fell flat on his face. They had been through some pretty terrible shit together, but Henry hadn’t experienced a loss in his family since his father died; Alex was concerned it might bring up some difficult feelings that he didn’t know how to process. He absentmindedly drew patterns on the back of Henry’s hand and up his forearm, losing himself in thought. He was pulled back to reality by Henry pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You need to stop doing that, or we’re going to have to have a problem that I’d rather not deal with in an airplane bathroom,” Henry whispered in his ear. Alex looked innocently up into Henry’s blue eyes, asking a silent question.  
“Save it for when we get to Kensington,” Henry responded, kissing Alex on the lips this time. It probably lingered for longer than it should have in the company of others, but neither of them could be bothered to tear themselves away for the sake of decency.  
They touched down on the private airstrip shortly after four in the afternoon, the entire team completely wrecked from jet-lag, and Nora, June, and Pez also seemed to be nursing the worst of the hangovers from the previous nights drinking. They were shuttled back to Kensington, the sprawling lawns coming into view just as Alex was nodding off into a daydream. He pressed the side of his face to the cool window, and stared out at the gardens still sparse from winter, a few signs of life poking through the ground. Shaan was waiting at the front entrance, looking impeccably handsome as always, but possibly more so due to his stark contrast to Catherine. She stood there, positively disheveled, eyes rimmed red, hair coming loose from her ponytail, and Alex couldn’t help but realize just how small she looked.

“Mum, hi—” Henry barely managed to say before Catherine wrapped her arms around him in a crushing hug. Bea was also swept up into the embrace, and Catherine began crying in earnest.

“Hey now, hey,” Bea said calmly, “Why don’t we go inside and have a cuppa? Yeah? It’s alright, mum, it’s going to be alright.” Catherine swallowed hard, and wiped her face on the cuff of her sleeve. “I think we probably need a few minutes to sort things out, don’t we, Haz?” Bea rarely took the royal thing seriously, but Alex could see all of the nobility in her blood through the set of her jaw and the determined look in her eye. Alex knew that she had a hold on the situation, and she was going to get Catherine through it without the new queen collapsing in on herself. The family could not afford for her to go supernova. 

Alex grabbed his bag, since he refused to let any staff take his things for him, and gave Henry’s arm a quick squeeze before taking himself down to the apartments. It was a bit of a walk from the main entrance, and Alex started thinking about what came next. What would change. What wouldn’t. And what he could possibly do about it. So.

1\. Catherine was now the Queen of fucking England.

2\. This made Henry 2nd in line for the throne, after Philip.

3\. There was going to be an absolute media circus in their midst over the coming months. Well, even more than usual.

4\. Alex can’t protect Henry from everything. But he can protect him from some things.  
  


* * *

  
Waiting for Henry to come back from his time with Bea and Catherine— _and Philip_ , he remembered with a grimace, was absolute torture. He wanted to hold his hand. Tell him everything was going to be okay, that his mom was going to get through this and be an absolutely amazing Queen. That they could tell paparazzi to shove their cameras somewhere they won’t ever see the light of day again. Even ask him how he was feeling about his grandmother being gone. Despite their relationship having been tumultuous at best, Alex thought maybe some part of Henry might be upset about losing her as a person, if not as the figurehead of a monarchy.

So this was how Alex spent the rest of the afternoon as the fourth wheel to a throuple, and when dinnertime came, kitchen staff brought a hot meal to Henry’s apartment. It wasn’t the poutine they had planned on eating this weekend, but it was still good, and it felt better to be in the company of friends. Alex was starting to get restless, and he was sure that Henry must be absolutely exhausted. Nora tried to get him to sit down and watch some of the latest season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine with them on the couch, but he couldn’t stop pacing. He did a hundred push ups just to get out his nervous energy, and when that didn’t work, he went for a hundred sit ups. When he finished those and started into a set of squats, June finally threw a pair of balled up socks at him. Exasperated, he took himself to the shower to try to get a re-set on his emotions. He was finally letting the hot water work out some of the tension of his shoulders when he heard the bathroom door click.

“Hey, love,” Alex heard Henry say softly.

“Sweetheart!” Alex cried, and yanked open the glass shower door. He made to shut off the water, but Henry held up his hand to stop him.

“No no no, keep it running, darling. I’m coming in,” And so he did. Alex rested his arms on Henry’s shoulders as he pulled him back under the stream of water, kissing him softly, pressing their naked bodies together, running his hands through Henry’s hair. The air between them didn't even need to be sexually charged for this moment to be perfect in its passion; it was just calm and soft and intimate, a sort of homecoming. Then Alex poured shower gel over Henry, soaping him up, cleaning him off, and running his hands all over his body, pale skin glistening under the water. They washed each others hair, something they only did when they were feeling particularly tender and sentimental, and kissed a bit more for good measure. It wasn’t until they collapsed on the bed that they stopped touching for even a brief moment, when Alex rolled away to plug in his phone and text June that they were hunkering down for the night. Though Alex tended to be the little spoon, or the one to curl up on Henry’s chest, tonight, he laid on his back and scooped Henry into his side. Alex gently scratched Henry’s scalp as his boyfriend wrapped his arms around him, and his breathing began to even out, face tucked into Alex’s shoulder. A few minutes later, Henry was fast asleep.

Henry had once told Alex, about his love for him, “If someone like that were to love me, it would set me on fire.” But as Alex laid there, listening to Henry’s gentle breathing, he realized that the reality is this: Henry is the fire. Not burning in an uncontrollable blaze, like Alex tended to be, flashing bright before burning out. No, Henry is the fire in the hearth that keeps the house warm, steady, giving, purposeful. He’s the one that lights up Alex’s life, giving meaning and solace to the darkness and disorganization that so frequently plagues his mind. But now… it was Alex’s turn to keep Henry warm enough so that he doesn’t shatter. To be the steady one, to be level headed, and carve a space for Henry to feel what he needs to feel.

Alex asked him this, how he’s feeling, in the morning when they woke up, limbs tangled together, and sheets askew. Henry never sleeps well when he has to stay back at Kengington. If he had to answer Alex’s question truthfully, Henry didn’t know how he was feeling, and he was even less sure if what he was feeling amounted to sadness. The emotion, if he could name it, was likely more akin to shock. Perhaps it was because everyone believed that Queen Mary would live forever out of pure spite, but the entire situation felt surreal. At any moment, they would snap back to that precious moment under the lights of the Mount Royal Cross and above the lights of the city, and everything would be as it was. Alex’s phone wouldn’t ring, they wouldn’t stumble back to the car to find Bea’s phone with a thousand missed calls from Catherine and Philip, they wouldn’t apologize to their security teams profusely as they raced back to the airstrip to jet over the Atlantic yet another time. They wouldn’t be stuck back at Kensington yet again. He wouldn’t be getting dressed in his approved black suit and tie to stand behind in front of the nation for a broadcasted address, and Henry’s mother wouldn’t be ascending to the goddamn throne. But all of those things happened, and there was nothing Henry or Alex could do to stop this train from barrelling down the tracks. Things had been too quiet, and too perfect, as of late for them to get away with it for much longer anyways. There was always something, Henry thought, and he hated dragging Alex through it.

“Baby,” Henry whispered, his lips in Alex’s hair. His voice suddenly sounded almost urgent now, and much less bitter than their previous conversation. Alex pulled back, and his eyes met Henry’s just before he was pulled into an all-encompassing hug.  
“This is so not how I wanted to celebrate your birthday. But welcome to 24, Alex. I’m so glad you’re here with me, that you chose me, of all people, to spend your life with. I love you so much. I promise I will make this up to you.” Henry cradled the back of Alex’s head in one of his large hands, pressing him into his shoulder. Alex ran his hands up and down Henry’s sides, and pulled back to look at him again.

“Oh, baby, this is so not about me right now,”

“But it bloody well should be. I’m sorry this is all happening, I wish I could be with you all day today, and just—”

“Hey.” Alex silenced Henry with a kiss, “It’s fine.” Another kiss. “I promise.” Another kiss. “And I will be sure to take you up on that. You absolutely will make it up to me, I have no doubt,” He punctuated that with a quick squeeze of Henry’s ass. “Now go!” He smiled into one last kiss before Henry was able to peel himself away.

After Henry somehow extricated himself from Alex’s embrace, he made his way to Buckingham Palace to meet Bea, Philip, and Catherine. Alex threw on some jeans and Henry’s Oxford sweatshirt, and then made his way to the kitchen and blearily made himself a cup of coffee. Pez was already sitting at the kitchen island eating a bowl of cereal, Nora on the couch in the living area, with the TV on the news. At 9 am, the news of the Queen’s passing would break, and at 10, the new Queen would give her first royal address, her three children standing silently behind her. Alex didn’t understand or care for much of the royal protocol, but he did know that the next 8 days between the announcement and the funeral would be complete chaos. Parliament would shut down, people would flock to Westminster Hall to pay their respects, shops and services would shutter their doors in mourning. The English are weird about their royalty, that Alex understood, and although he knew that presidents past had received great honours and public grieving, nothing could quite compare to the history and tradition rearing its very large, and rather ornate head in front of them. He couldn’t eat the pastry Pez had waved in front of him, he was so nervous, and took his seat beside Nora silently, staring at the TV screen.

“Hey. He’s going to be fine,” Nora said to him, her tone uncharacteristically kind, where he typically would be met with sarcasm or a joke.

“I know that… technically. What are the numbers on me throwing up before the next two weeks are over?”

“I think we’re at a solid 50-50 for right now, but you also haven’t eaten anything today, so. We might go up to 75% once you actually get something in your stomach.”

“I feel like it’s 100% already… God, I just… You guys know how Henry gets when he spends too much time here, or has to deal with press and paparazzi, and—” He stops himself before saying anything too mean, but then decides he doesn't care and continues anyways, “Everyone is only gonna say nice shit about the Queen, ‘cause that’s what happens when people die, and Henry’s just going to have to pretend like she didn’t make his life a living hell for the last 25 years?” Alex looked away from the screen at Pez and Nora, thinking he may find them staring at him, blinking in shock, but they both shrugged and nodded along in agreement with him.

“Tell it like it is, _hermano_!” June piped up, finally making an appearance. Like Alex, she was wearing ripped jeans, a university sweater, and serious bags under her eyes. “You know I agree with you 100%, I’m not going to mince words about the Queen just ‘cause I’m in her palace and she’s been dead for a day. But also, Henry doesn’t need you to fight the world for him. He just needs you to be here for him.” She flopped down on the sofa between him and Nora, giving her girlfriend a quick kiss.

Alex knew she was right, and it gave him a little comfort to have people to talk to without needed to keep the facade of happy royal suitor. He relaxed into the couch a little, leaning into June’s shoulder until the dramatic breaking news music and flashing newscast introduction started him back to reality.

_“Good morning, England. We come to you with breaking news today, Sunday, March 27, 2022. We have received official confirmation from British Press Association that our beloved Queen Mary, crown ruler of England for the last 48 years, has died. This unexpected passing comes as a shock to our nation. Further updates will be released throughout the day, and we will bring this news to you as we receive it. We now go to our correspondent, Anika Lal-Thompson, at Buckingham Palace, where the Queen now lies in state. I’m Ewan Connolly for BBC News. Anika, over to you.”_

_“Hi, thank you Ewan. I am here at Buckingham Palace, where the flags have just been dropped to half mast in order to honour the life of Queen Mary of England. The British Press Association, British Parliament, and the BBC have received the official news that the Queen passed away peacefully in her sleep early yesterday morning. The Royal Family is now reunited at Kensington Palace, and the new Head of State, Catherine, will be giving her first public address at 10 a.m. This evening, she will be officially proclaimed as Queen and read the formal declaration by the Accession Council. The new Queen Catherine will complete a four day tour of England in order to greet her new subjects. Her son Philip will now hold the title Prince of Wales as he becomes first in line to the throne. Queen Mary will lie in state at Buckingham Palace for four days, after which she will be moved to the Westminster Hall for citizens to come pay their respects for another four days. The funeral will be held Monday, April the 4th, at 11 a.m. For BBC News, I’m Anika Lal-Thompson. God save the Queen.”_

The bells chimed. They kept on chiming. Alex groaned as he watched the news crew aerial footage of Buckingham Palace and Westminster Hall, knowing that soon, cameras would be zeroed in on Henry, gay rebel grandson and deserter of England, waiting for a soundbite or an exploitable emotion. Alex knew Henry would never give them one, Henry was trained by his grandmother, after all, but it still hurt his heart to feel so far away from him right now. He checked the cupboard for Jaffa cakes (it was well stocked) and the freezer for Cornettos (they were in abundant supply as well). He even unpacked all of their bags, putting everything away into its rightful place so that Henry couldn’t become overwhelmed by the clutter. With all of their efforts, June, Nora, and Pez did try to stop him from pacing, to try to get him to do something to celebrate his birthday, but it was still no use. The tingling sensation wouldn’t leave his shoulder blades, and the twisting feeling wouldn’t leave his gut. Alex simply needs the address to be over, to see Henry’s face in person, not on a screen, and then he’ll feel alright. Once they’re together again, it’s all going to be fine.

It's all going to be fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also had to do some seriously quick learning about royal protocol. I had some of the story fleshed out and once I did some research into the monarchy, the story had to take a bit of a left turn in terms of pacing, but I'm actually excited for all of the details that it has fleshed out!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me on this journey; I started with no idea where this was going besides wanting to kill Queen Mary off, so now that it's underway and has some direction, I'm so happy that people are reading and are along for the ride. 
> 
> Hold on to your butts, the rating is going up to explicit due to the contents of the next chapter.


	5. ocean wave blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday sex, Alex struggles to focus on school work, romantic contemplation. 
> 
> Content warning for: sex, discussion of racism / homophobia, symptoms of ADHD.

They ended up celebrating Alex’s birthday with pizza in Henry’s apartment, since Nora and June decided to head back to New York the next day. The girls offered to pick David up from the dog sitters and have him stay at their apartment until Alex and Henry were able to come home after the funeral, to which they enthusiastically agreed. Henry was about as emotional as Alex had seen him in the last few days, which either pointed to how exhausted her was or just how much he despises leaving David in someone else’s care. Either way, Henry smothered June and Nora in a borderline tearful hug that Alex had to pry them out of. Pez said that he wanted to stay in London for a bit longer to take care of some affairs with the Onkonjo Foundation, plus, he still had his own flat in the city, which gave him his own space when he needed it. The other bonus, which Alex hated to approve of, was that more sightings of Pez hanging out without June and Nora, especially back home, was a plus for paparazzi and media speculation.

Much to Alex’s surprise, Henry arranged for a tres leches cake to be delivered up to them, and an assortment of cupcakes too, for good measure. Everyone insisted on giving him gifts, as well, which Alex repeatedly said were not necessary. Once he opened the framed print from Bea, though, he couldn’t deny that getting gifts was pretty fucking great. It was a stunning Madonna-and-Child religious-style painting, the kind you might see on a prayer candle— but it was a portrait of Carrie Fisher, wearing a crown and holding her French Bulldog, Gary, while giving the middle finger. So, in all senses of the word, perfection. Pez, Nora, and June gave him a joint gift of AirPods, which had been staunchly refusing to purchase himself, and a pair of navy chinos to apologize for the ones June had borrowed and subsequently ruined with a paint stain. Maybe they didn’t have the chance to celebrate his birthday the way they had planned, the way he had wanted, but this still felt like a decent way to do it.

The group worked incredibly hard to steer the conversation away from the situation at hand, and they, albeit not smoothly, fell into their rhythm, the push and pull, the teasing and laughter of their typical hang outs. When Bea and Pez got into a lively debate about the benefits versus environmental consequences of electric cars, Pez had a few choice words about Elon Musk and the toxicity of electric car batteries.

“So what you’re saying is that electric cars are just giving us the illusion of choice and puts the onus of saving the planet on consumer behaviour, rather than corporations, which are the true contributors to global emissions? Including the manufacturing of Teslas?” June smiled at Pez, resting her chin in her hand, basically looking like the equivalent of the heart eyes emoji.

“There is no ethical consumption under capitalism!” Alex quipped.

“Ugh. June. Yes. That is essentially what I’m saying. Although I never would have said that before I met you. What have you done to me?!” Pez lamented, faking shock as he looked at his own hands, shaking them for emphasis.

“That’s my M.O.! I get people in my bed and then I convince them to become better people.”

“I already was a good person!” Pez protested.

“Sure. But you’ve learned so much, young grasshopper. I’m like your younger, hotter, political Mr. Myagi.” She mimed ‘wax on, wax off’ but then interrupted her own train of thought, “Wait. Saying hotter implies that Mr. Myagi is already hot, but I’m hotter. Does that still track?”

“I’ll allow it.” Henry said, mockingly serious, bowing his head to her.

As much fun as they were having, as good as it felt to be with his chosen family, Alex just wished there wasn’t this heavy weight around them, this elephant in the room that they couldn’t keep avoiding with good natured fun and copious amounts of alcohol. The funeral was looming in the near distance, Catherine’s trip and new responsibilities casting a dense veil of pressure over Henry and Bea. In all selfishness, what Alex wanted, really wished for, was to be alone with Henry and have a moment to themselves. Thankfully, due to some kind of cosmic fortune and maybe possibly a slightly inappropriate text, Henry managed to get everyone to leave his apartment while it was still before midnight.

“I think we’re alone now…” Henry sang gently against Alex’s forehead, as they slow danced in the hallway.

“Mm. I think we are.” The statement was punctuated with a kiss. “And if I do recall, you mentioned something about, what was it? Ah, yes, making it up to me?”

Henry coughed. “Uh. Yes. I do believe I did. So you should probably start taking off those clothes,” Henry slipped the Oxford sweater over Alex’s head, and then his t-shirt, as they stumbled back towards Henry’s bedroom. Soon, Henry’s shirt and pants fell to the floor, Alex’s jeans and socks joined them only moments later. Henry tossed Alex onto the bed, crawling up on top of him, mouth hardly leaving Alex’s body as he traced the lines and curves of him with his tongue.

“Fuck, baby,” Alex breathed, “What’s your plan here?”

“It is your birthday, after all. So you should be in the mood to receive,” Henry teased from somewhere around Alex’s navel. He had already slipped his hands beneath the waistband of Alex’s boxers, pushing them down just enough for Alex to begin formulating some expectations. Alex gasped, then groaned, as Henry swiped his tongue across the small part of his erection that was exposed. Without hesitating, he pulled Alex free just before swallowing him down completely, and letting out a desperate sound of his own once the familiar taste of Alex became comfortable on his tongue. When their eyes met, Alex swore again, and fisted his hand into Henry’s hair, allowing him to control the tempo more as he brought Henry closer to him, and pushed himself further into Henry’s mouth. One of Henry’s hands snaked underneath Alex’s ass, and he caressed him for another minute before slowly working his fingers inside of Alex, eliciting moans that were borderline pornographic. Alex couldn’t believe that he was the one making those sounds, and before… everything, before Henry, he would have sworn that these types of noises were for dramatic effect only, and could not possibly be genuine. And yet here they were, here Alex was, involuntarily cursing at a gentle curl of Henry’s fingers.

After a while, Henry pulled himself off of Alex’s cock, looking up at him dreamily. Alex hauled him up for another agonizing kiss as Henry continued to prepare Alex for what he wanted desperately to come next.

“Baby…” Henry whispered, “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, yes, yes, of course I do,” Alex barely made the words between pointed exhales and groans.

“I thought this might be the perfect gift for a special occasion… I’ll give you anything you want.” Henry said, his voice low and a little hoarse from Alex’s use of his throat. “Tell me how you want it. Or I’ll choose for you,” he threatened, thrusting his fingers up even harder and deeper.

“Ah,” was all Alex managed to get out, before rolling himself over and scrambling to his hands and knees, “Like this,” his voice barely above a whisper, then braced himself on his elbows.

“Whatever you want, baby, anything for you,” Henry murmured against Alex’s ass cheek, kissing it gently before giving it it a hard swat. Alex kept his stance firm but bowed his head and grunted when Henry spanked him a second time. Henry didn’t hesitate to pull off his own briefs, and hastily cover himself in lube before slipping inside of Alex, connecting them fully, Henry’s hips pressed against the reddening flesh of Alex’s backside. Henry pulled out almost all the way, and pushed himself back in again. He did this a few more times, slowly, and languidly, until Alex’s breathing evened out.

“How is that, love? Does that feel good?” Henry crooned, running his nails down Alex’s back.

“Yes, fuck baby, yes, fuck me,” Alex replied, his head dipping down to touch his hands where he had clasped them together in front of him.

And who was Henry not to follow orders? He fucked Alex, revelling in the tight heat around him. Henry gained even more pleasure as he began thinking about how this is how Alex gets to feel most of the time when he’s inside Henry; the closeness, the privilege, the absolute honour to take somebody into such a vulnerable place, coaxing out their most base desires and reactions, chasing a mutual release. Connecting to Alex’s body so intimately that it became an extension of his own. They moved together, perfectly in sync, even as the pace changed, and the mood shifted. What started out playful and sexy turned into passionate and tender, then to frantic and sloppy. Even if Alex didn’t bottom regularly, he took it like an expert, and he looked like a goddamn angel doing it, the way he flexed his thighs and bumped his ass back to meet Henry’s hips, the way he ran his fingers through his hair in desperation, sweat beginning to bead on his lower back.

“Get on top of me,” Henry commanded. Alex obeyed. He sank himself down onto Henry after they hurried to reposition themselves, and Alex reached his hands out to grab Henry’s chest, run his fingers across Henry’s nipples, pushing against Henry’s rib cage to steady himself as he ground himself down into Henry’s lap. All he could think was _Henry, Henry, Henry_. Henry didn’t know how much longer he could last with Alex like this, with getting the front row seat, watching his length disappear into Alex as he bounced to a perfect, secretly shared rhythm. Henry reached for Alex’s cock, stroking him hard and purposefully. It didn’t take long for Henry to feel Alex start clenching around him, his moans growing deeper in pitch and more drawn out, his signature tell. Their eyes locked and Henry nodded, immediately allowing Alex to come. Henry opened his mouth, stretching out his tongue in order to catch some of the spray, the rest of Alex’s orgasm emptying onto his chest.

“Fuck, Alex, love, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this, oh my god,” he managed to say, as he thrusted up into Alex, mere seconds away from coming himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the sound of skin on skin, the feel of Alex on top of him, surrounding him, the taste of Alex’s cum on his tongue. And then, in an instant that lasted an eternity, he was there, pouring himself out into Alex, who collapsed into his chest, absolutely spent, sticky, sweaty, and absolutely sublime.

“Happy birthday,” Henry smiled into Alex’s hair. Alex smiled too, though more to himself than anything else. The faintest sliver of moonlight had slipped through the curtains, illuminating a line across their bodies, and in that moment, it was the only thing between them.   
  


* * *

Henry spent the next several days fussing over Alex missing a week of school while in London. Alex had protested that he wasn’t really missing it if he was able to attend online, but Henry seemed worried nonetheless, and stubbornly insisted Alex set up an office at Kensington in order to focus on school work. Something about not wanting his “stuffy-arsed family traditions and unwarranted national acclaim” to interfere with Alex’s work, to which he had responded with something inappropriate along the lines of “showing what Henry could stuff his arse with.” Shockingly, Henry actually took the bait, and happily asked Alex to demonstrate by fucking him into the mattress for the greater part of an afternoon.

Unfortunately, Alex did understand that he couldn’t neglect his coursework for a week and he also needed something to occupy his mind while Henry was whisked away to briefing after briefing. So there he sat, at a desk that was probably older than his country, working on a borrowed laptop, reading about landmark legal cases in American history. When he got to the section on Loving v. Virginia, his eyes kept reading the same sentence over and over again, his brain unable to take in the text. It almost felt impossible to register that this mixed-race couple was charged with jail time for having the audacity to marry each other, although he felt the disapproval so keenly in his own skin. Not being able to be with the person he loved was a little too close to reality. It was still a reality for millions of people, a right that always seemed to be up for debate, as if his life, his existence, was somehow something that was debatable. Plus, his own parents had to face scepticism when they married and Alex felt that keen disapproval every time he read comments on the colour of his skin, and in his desperate need to prove himself.

Halfway down the Wikipedia page for the Loving movie, Alex’s mind came back into focus. He tried to get back into the reading, but before he had finished another sentence he found himself on the ACLU website. When he looked up again, it was already dinner time, and he had yet to finish the assigned article, but he had somehow scoured not only the entire ACLU site and Twitter, but also all of the social media for the American Immigration Council, Human Rights Watch, PFLAG, and an entire Etsy page for dog bow-ties. He had needed to charge his phone but hadn’t been able to summon the willpower to get up and plug it in, so it was hanging by a thread at 1% battery life. The thought of Henry back at the apartment digging into some food without him did, however, have enough impact to spur him into action. When he got to the kitchen, however, Henry wasn’t there. He pushed open the bedroom door to find Henry laying across the bed on his stomach in front of his laptop, a Jaffa cake halfway devoured in his mouth.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Alex slid into position beside him, “What’s this?”

“Well, I wanted to watch Bake Off but there aren’t any new episodes and I feel like I’ve re-watched the rest too many times… So, er, Netflix recommended the Great Canadian Baking Show for me so I looked it up and apparently it’s basically the same as British Bake Off but. You know. Canadian.” Henry said with a sheepish grin. Alex looked at him, a bit incredulous.

“So you’re okay with a commonwealth knock off?!”

“Well, it’s quite good actually… I’ve only just started but, it’s quite nice because there’s so much diversity since the country is so massive, you see. And—” 

“Um. Now I get why you’re okay with it.” Alex’s smile grew into a face-splitting grin, and he gestured a bit wildly at the screen. The host of the show was chatting with a contestant and sampling their dessert, and Alex could not describe him as being anything less than gorgeous. Impeccable style, perfectly coiffed hair, sharp glasses and eyebrows that... well. Alex had never considered eyebrows to be something that made a man sexy, but now? Damn.

“Ah. Yes. That’s Dan Levy...” Henry said a bit sheepishly, his signature blush turning the tips of his ears pink.

“He’s...”

“Mm. Mmhmm. Yup. Definitely does not hurt the enjoyment of this show.” They both laughed, and met each others lips for a quick kiss.

“Well then,” Alex declared, “We will be watching more of this. But for right now, I’m hungry.”

So they ate. They cuddled. Alex assured Henry that he was getting enough work done, even though Henry continued to worry that the demands of his life were too much on Alex. Over the last two years, but more so since they had moved in together, Henry would sometimes slip into moods in which he convinced himself that the life of a royal was never going to give Alex the life he wanted. That perhaps when Alex was no longer the First Son of the United States, he would want a quieter life to practice law, to go out without being swarmed by paparazzi, to dress however he wanted, to not have to fly to London every several weeks, to not have the crushing pressure of the crown. When it was all said and done, the laundry list of ultimate exhaustion that came with the royal territory did seem a bit daunting. But Alex knew what he signed up for when he made the decision to be with Henry with his whole self, and frankly, Alex thought Henry might be projecting onto him a little bit. The things that Henry always worried that Alex would tire of were really the things that Henry himself struggled to handle. Alex would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t sometimes think about it, what life would be like if they were able to run away from it all, to just be Alex and Henry, like those warm, carefree days at the lake house every summer. Alex smiled to himself, thinking about a time in the distant future where an international sex scandal was a lifetime behind them, where two men being in love wasn’t news anymore, and they were old and boring enough not to attract the attention of tabloids and photographers. Maybe Henry’s blonde hair would be streaked with a little bit of grey, and maybe the corners of Alex’s eyes would crinkle with laugh lines. So maybe it would be a while, but they would still get to live the lives they had only ever dreamed of.

Whatever it looked like, whenever it happened, Alex didn’t care. It was all worth it to feel the familiar pull of being in Henry’s orbit, relentlessly drawn to the centre of his universe. Regardless of whatever responsibilities and rules and regulations were thrown at them, Alex had chosen Henry, and he would continue to choose him, every day. He told Henry as much, both with his words and with his actions. Even if Henry didn’t make it easy, he still loved him, somehow more every day than the one before it. To have that? Well, he’d put up with just about anything.

Even the giant televised funeral in three days time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and sticking with me through the multi-chap! I love all of your comments and kudos, this baby fic writer appreciates it so much! 
> 
> I know there was discussion from CMQ about Alex having undiagnosed ADHD and so what I wrote for him in this chapter is directly pulled from my own experiences of undiagnosed ADHD. 
> 
> This is the print that Bea gives Alex, in case you wanted to see it:  
> https://lindsayvanek.myshopify.com/collections/best-sellers/products/special-giclee-edition-blessed-rebel-queen


	6. in the details

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The funeral.

Now that Catherine returned from her British tour, the world still seemed to be spinning at a breakneck pace, the day of the funeral arriving faster than any of them had anticipated. Alex was eternally grateful that Bea and Henry had not required to go with her, because he wasn’t sure how he would have handled walking the halls of Kensington alone for those few days. Maybe he would have gotten more work done if Henry had been gone, but then he remembered that his ability to focus here has been abysmal at best anyways. It was at least nice to have Catherine back again, even if the meals they ate together were quiet and picked over. It seemed that nobody particularly felt like eating when the conversation inevitably turned to the ceremony and all of the royal subjects that had been lamenting the loss of their queen for the greater part of a week now.

Nobody was able to eat much of anything when the rose at the crack of dawn, either. It didn’t seem like Henry had slept at all, and Alex only managed a few scant hours himself. Bea had invited herself over to get ready, no doubt to keep an eye on Henry, whose anxious energy was radiating off of him in waves. The poor prince was now fidgeting with his blond hair, trying to arrange it just right. Alex tore his eyes away in order to alleviate some of the pressure, and instead watched Bea as she set her makeup, which was a very natural and understated look for today. Then he offered some unhelpful commentary as she fussed over the unnecessarily large hat she was required to wear to the ceremony, due to the weird royal head covering custom for women. She had at least gotten out of wearing one of those outlandish fascinators with all the netting and feathers, since the whole outfit had been designed specifically for her by Stella McCartney, so that was certainly a win. Looking in the mirror one last time, she exhaled a slow, calming breath.

“Bea, are you okay? I haven’t seen you cry this whole time. Not that I’m here to tell you how to grieve, but you know you’re allowed to have a stoic tear, or whatever.” Alex said.

“Nah, this isn’t really unusual.” Henry finally gave up on his hair and moved towards them, “We watched all of Avatar and Bea didn’t even cry during the Tales of Ba Sing Se. It’s like something’s wrong with her.” Henry said very solemnly, but the edge of his mouth was pulling up into a smirk.

“I had my tear ducts cauterized as a child.” Bea responded. Alex couldn’t help but let a laugh escape. “What? I’m not a crier. It also helps that I’m actually not all that cut up about Gran dying, either.” She gave Alex a wink.

“Regardless of how you feel or felt about the old woman, we’ve got to go now or we’ll be well in it,” Henry ushered them along out the door, Bea’s heels clicking alongside them at double time to keep up with their much longer strides. Henry looked like an advertisement for Ted Baker in his black suit, and a black shirt and tie, contrasting dramatically with his pale complexion, his bright blue eyes shining. He smiled nervously at Alex, who also looked pretty great in his matching all-black Alexander McQueen ensemble, if he did say so himself.

Shaan met them in the car, his normal wool suit jacket replaced with one of velvet. He offered Henry a small pill container and a steel water bottle once they were settled in, but Henry had already taken an Atavan before they’d left, hoping to stymy the flow of anxiety before it turned into a full on flood. Their LandRover eventually fell in line behind a police car with flashing lights and three unmarked Audis, and ahead of a caravan of other vehicles likely housing the less important members of the royal family. Police officers on motorcycles streamed alongside them down the road. Alex gripped one of Henry’s hands with both of his own, trying to ground him, to be his tether to reality. When Henry finally met Alex’s eyes, he noticed that Henry’s were full of tears.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Alex shushed him, wiping Henry’s eyes quickly with his thumb. “Baby, it’s okay. We’re going to get through this.”

“S’not about Gran.” Henry breathed through gritted teeth, “It’s just. This. Is. Exactly.” Henry forced a few more deep breaths while he tried to compose himself. “This is how it was when… with dad. All the cars and the people and the cameras and I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this again,” He flung himself into Alex’s arms, gripping him tighter than he’d ever felt.

“I’ve got you. It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, it sucks, but you, me, Bea? We’ve got this. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I’ll hold your hand the whole entire way.”

“Royal protocol says…” Henry swallowed hard, “It says we’re not allowed to show public displays of affection.”

“Henry, baby. Come on. You know I do not give one single fossilized shit about what royal protocol is. Your gran’s not going to rise out of the casket just to smite us,”

“She might, actually,” Henry said ruefully. He even managed a laugh.

“You’re right, it is within the realm of possibility that her homophobia is strong enough to reanimate her corpse. So we’re just going to have to chance it, okay? I would break a million ancient traditions for you, baby. Whatever you need, I’m here.” Alex kissed Henry’s forehead a few times for good measure.

The car finally came to a stop, the hum of the engine still thrumming as the driver waited for them to get out of the car. The air outside was crisp, the damp smell of growing grass and budding trees laced through the gentle spring breeze. As was customary in England, the sky was a slate of grey clouds, blocking out any sign of the sun, which cast a shadowy gloom over Westminster Hall. It seemed only fitting, Alex thought. While he had expected the thrum of the crowd would be overpowering today, the citizens lining the streets were caught in a hushed silence; the only sound carrying was the steady click of cameras, paparazzi poised in position to capture the winning shot to be posted on tomorrows newspapers and tabloids. The media vans were just out of earshot, with various reporters and correspondents trying to provide the newest updates, now, surely, they would be buzzing at the arrival of the Royal Family, the chief mourners. It all made Alex suddenly feel very small, overwhelmed by the size and stature of this occasion and the family it surrounded. It wasn’t the kind of peaceful insignificance that calmed him on the edge of Mount Royal under the stars. It was the kind of insignificance that lived in the corners of his mind like sticky cobwebs, like when his mother was first elected, as he pondered legacy and how he would be remembered, if anything he did would be remembered at all.

 _History will remember us_ , Alex reminded himself, his own words bringing him back, grounding him. Whatever he did, with Henry by his side, was never insignificant. There he was, the American, the Mexican, the bisexual, the everything the monarchy said that Henry couldn’t have, and that counted for something. And at the end of the day, his role in the world, in politics, in global affairs, in the media, none of it mattered, hell, it paled in comparison to playing the role of Henry’s boyfriend. Alex looked up at Henry just then, and gave him an encouraging smile. Henry tightened his grip on Alex’s hand as they fell in line behind Bea in their procession, and walked up the steps into Westminster.

The vaulted wooden ceilings were absolutely breathtaking, and Alex had to stop himself from staring up at them in awe. The massive stone room was already filled with people, people that Alex couldn’t decipher from officiants or priests or pastors or whatever the Anglican church calls them, plus the deceased Queen’s staff members and weirdly dressed British soldier-bodyguard type guys lining the walls. Those were the ones who would escort the Queen’s casket out of the hall in their gloomy parade. Alex breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a familiar face, catching Aaron’s eye from across the room. They nodded formally to each other, but Alex could have hugged him in that moment, his presence, a reminder of normalcy, of a person who saw Alex and Henry for who they were in their day to day lives, was so reassuring.

The procession and the rest of the day passed in some kind of a haze, and Alex couldn’t track exactly where the time had gone as they arrived at Windsor Castle. The only thing that remained constant was his grip on Henry’s hand. He kept trying to keep track of the flurry of events, but it kept escaping him. There had been the whole gun carriage transfer to Westminster Abbey, and then the funeral… Catherine’s brief eulogy was sweet, and kind, the ending words hung around Alex’s ears long after they had been spoken.

_“Thank you, to the citizens of this great country, as you have shown such love and care for our family this last week. It has moved me to see your admiration and dedication to the Queen and this country, and we appreciate the care you have shown us here in the House of Windsor. You all lost a figurehead, an icon, the face of our nation for the last many decades. I feel that loss with you deeply. But I also lost my mother, the woman who raised me and taught me everything I know, whether I wanted it or not. I loved my mother, as you have loved her, but also for so much more. She wasn’t perfect, even if the history books remember her as such; she was a dedicated leader and fierce defender of this country, and everything we stand for as a nation. But she was also a human being, just like you and me, and I will miss her advice not just for political dealings or how to talk to diplomats, but on whether or not red really is my colour (it’s not) and how to stop my pie crust from getting soggy on the bottom. She was insufferably honest and unbearably dedicated, and always so cognizant of the position she held, in the eye of the country and of the world. When she became queen when I was barely a woman, I asked her if she was scared. She told me that she was not afraid because she was born to do this. I couldn’t imagine being so fearless, but she never once showed any seeds of doubt and she certainly was the strongest, most relentless person I have ever met. I think maybe she was lying to me that day, because I know I was born to fill her shoes and I am still nothing short of terrified. I hope I am half the queen my mother has been to this nation, and I hope that she continues to guide me as she has guided this incredible country for over forty years. In what she was unable to achieve, I hope to do better. Thank you, again, for the kindness you have shown to me and my family, and for respecting our privacy in this difficult time. God bless the United Kingdom.”_

Hands were shaken, introductions to all kinds of foreign commonwealth representatives, pleasantries exchanged, many thanks given for their generosity for attending. After that came a train ride, and another motorcade, and now he was trying, with great difficulty, to stay focused on the burial service that also seemed to last for ages. Henry’s anxious jitters had levelled out as the day wore on, but from the increased leaning into Alex’s shoulder, he could tell Henry’s energy for keeping up a polite face was fading. Thankfully, the attendance had been quite limited, which was a huge relief, and the setting of St. George’s Chapel was, admittedly, quite perfect, with its sloping green lawns and stony Gothic architecture. The Anglican customs were strange to Alex, clashing at odd angles with his Roman Catholic upbringing, bumping against Spanish blessings and prayers. At least some of the readings he could track as they jogged familiar annals of his mind.

“In the midst of life, we are in death…” the priest (or Bishop? Or Cardinal? Or some other word that started with a C?) droned on. Alex was jolted to attention suddenly in what felt like a shockingly and unnecessarily dramatic move: the Archbishop-type-guy broke his large white staff in two and dropped it into the burial vault on top of the casket. There was a collection of murmurs after this gesture, a gentle rustle that was undercut by Catherine’s persistent sniffling. No-one else dared make a more obvious show of grief than the daughter of the deceased and Queen apparent, so there was nothing more than some quiet tears and some nose blowing. Bea wrapped her arm around Catherine, who proceeded to bury her face in Bea’s shoulder. Alex hugged his own free arm a little tighter around himself as he felt a chill descend upon the group. The flashes of the few permitted photographers became much more obvious in the dreariness of late afternoon, and Alex wished he could kiss away the tension he saw in Henry’s jaw each time a photo was taken. At last, the Royal family members each had to sprinkle some earth on top of the casket from a canister that reminded Alex of a salt shaker, and some dry last remarks were made. Soon enough, they were back into the cars. And then back on the train. And into another set of cars. And finally, _finally_ , back to Kensington, where there would be no media, no prying eyes, and no judgmental glances to hound them.  
  


* * *

  
“God, I’m so ready to go home tomorrow,” Henry sighed, “No offence, Bea. It really truly has been lovely spending the last week with you, but—”

“Henry, darling, you don’t need to apologize. I know you’re miserable here. I will miss you, though.” Bea interjected.

“Well, you’re welcome to come ‘round ours any time you like,” Henry gave her shoulder a squeeze, “Though I don’t suppose things will be calm enough here for you to make the trip across the pond any time soon, really, but. The offer still stands.”

“David would love to see you,” Alex added. He laid back on the couch, full from their comparatively casual dinner with the family, absolutely spent, “I can’t wait to see him.”

“There might even be an American Romy for you,” Henry said with a laugh, and Bea slapped him on the arm playfully.

“Nah. I… actually texted her, once we got back to England. Had to apologize and tell her that my grandma died so we had to cut our trip short so we wouldn’t be back to the bar or anything... And uh... then obviously she figured out who I was and was all like, _you’re the fucking Princess of England! I knew you were straight out of a fairy tale!_ ” Bea looked embarrassed for only a second before she composed herself back into her normal, quietly confident self. She leaned in somewhat conspiratorially and said, “More or less what I’ve expected. I tried texting her back a bit but. I’ve actually started thinking maybe I’d like to, you know, date a little bit. I don’t know. We’ll see. It’s not like I can just download the singular ace dating app because I don’t even want to know what kind of paperwork that would involve… plus nothing kills the mood like having to introduce a prospective non-sexual partner to Parker…” She sighed, and Henry gave her a look, “What?! You know how awkward they can be sometimes. Honestly it would just be better to hang out with Parker myself. They get me and I don’t have to worry about all that... other shit.”

“Bea, honey, are you saying you want to date your bodyguard?” Alex asked.

“Ugh. Parker is _technically_ not my bodyguard, and no. That’s not what I’m saying.” She paused for a beat, “That’s not _not_ what I’m saying though. And they’ve been with me for a couple years. I feel like so few people actually know me, you know?”

“Oh, I know. But if you were trying to stay away from messy, that might not be the best route...” Henry said carefully.

“Speaking from personal experience. You know. As the pinnacle of messy.” Alex said.

“The absolute, complete and total paragon, nay, epitome, of messy.” Bea countered.

“It worked out though, didn’t it? So I rest my case.” Alex concluded.

The evening sprawled out in front of them, comfortable, quiet, and contemplative. They talked more about Bea’s dating prospects, which were less than ideal, but it left them feeling more hopeful and fun rather than raking over the details of the funeral service or burial. True to her word, Bea had not shed a single tear throughout the whole day, not even from exhaustion or stress now that they were alone. Not wanting to miss out on any action or potential snacks, Mr. Wobbles made himself comfortable on the couch as they enjoyed the last remnants of their time together. Bea sat on the floor, and practiced some songs on her autoharp, singing softly, more to herself than anyone else. Her gentle rendition of Cat Power’s ‘Sea of Love’ all but lulled Henry to sleep where he was curled up on the sofa, his face smushed against a throw pillow, his feet in Alex’s lap. He looked so peaceful, the most relaxed Alex had seen him since they got the news that his gran had died, his blond hair falling over his eyes, his chest rising and falling slowly, and Alex felt his heart swell with such warmth and adoration for this man he was so lucky to call his own. They were finally going home, and Henry could have his tiny sliver of peace back when things returned to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Absolutely mind-boggled to have reached 1K hits this week, so thank you again for coming along for the ride. 
> 
> If anyone actually knows a damn thing about state funerals that they didn't learn on Wikipedia and I got something wrong... I'm sorry, but. Alas. It is what it is.


	7. dreamscapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one comes to you in three parts: they're back in New York City. An interview and a trip to the hardware store ensue.

**AG/CD**

“yo when are you going to come over and watch dark tourist with me?”

**The Bug**

“Next week?? I may have finished it while you were gone...”   
  


**AG/CD**

“OMG YOU DIDN’T”

**The Bug**

“There was only 2 episodes left. I couldn’t be stopped. I’ve also already watched To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before 3 twice.

  
**AG/CD**

“you’re out of control”  
  


**The Bug**

“SARRY”

**AG/CD**

“the only reason I’m forgiving you is because you took care of David for the last week.”

Alex and Henry had returned to the brownstone without much fanfare, and it was a welcome relief to be back in their own space again. Cuddling with David was certainly an added bonus. Philip had hugged them both when they left for the airstrip, which was weird, but also a kind of nice show of his progress. Henry definitely struggled to say goodbye to Bea, he always did, but it felt different this time, knowing that their mother was now the Queen and their lives would be changed from that moment on. They didn’t know if they would even see each other again until Catherine’s coronation in mid-November. Plus, with Henry in the U.S., it meant a lot more responsibility for Bea to make appearances to the public and push her various initiatives. Alex was sure he had heard Henry apologize about a hundred times for it, but Bea was gracious as ever, and chided Henry with only a moderate amount of teasing.

Work at the shelter and law school assignments pulled them back into a familiar rhythm, and it helped to block out some of the noise of the rest of the world. The Daily Mail had published several ludicrous stories about the Queen writing Henry out of her will, and another that she requested that Alex be prevented from attending her funeral. HELLO! Magazine had thankfully only released one, very thick, special edition volume of _Remembering Queen Mary_. _So far_ , Alex reminded himself. _So far_. In the two months since his grandmother died, Henry had been approached by several newspapers, media outlets, and producers of all kinds to release some sort of official statement or conduct a grilling interview, but, wanting to avoid the spotlight, he had declined every one of them. Until, of course, stories began circulating about Henry’s indifference, which hung on two extremes: Henry, a traitor to England, was incredibly callous and uncaring and didn’t even care about his own grandmother’s death, while the other waxed poetic that Henry was so traumatized and oppressed by the crown that he was afraid to speak out in any way, shape, or form. Alex and Henry had laughed about them all and joked that both the accusations and the sympathy were closer to the truth than Henry would have liked to admit.

So this was how Henry ended up with an exclusive interview with Tamara Jones, a friend of June’s from their joint stint at Vogue. June could vouch for Tamara’s no-nonsense approach to journalism and kind professionalism that would make the experience as painless as possible for Henry. It was unseasonably warm for May, so they met on a trendy restaurant patio to talk, while Alex waited nervously at June and Nora’s apartment for them to finish up. He may have even drank a margarita to distract himself. Okay, maybe two margaritas. But that was it.

“I’m glad Henry’s the one that has to give a statement and not me,” Alex said, taking a sip of his drink and savouring the salt from the edge of his glass.

“You could’ve joined in on Mom’s if you really wanted to!” June laughed.

“Um no thank you. I’m so glad I was an entire ocean away when she released it.” He responded. "Prevented me from jumping in and saying something that would get me in serious shit." 

“Dear England,” Nora started to grandstand, “Our sincerest apologies that your useless state figurehead and taxpayer money pit has bitten the dust and returned to rule the Underworld from whence she spawned. While she may not have been the nicest person, she was also morally bankrupt and cared more about appearances that her family’s happiness.” Alex let out a cackle.

“We regret to inform you that we actually don’t give a shit. At best, your beloved Queen kept the status quo and didn’t bother making your country a better place. At worst, she kept the status quo and therefore condoned British colonialism and allowed plenty of people to suffer when she could have done something useful with herself.” June added with a flourish.

“Like, I almost feel bad for saying good riddance,” Alex started, then took another swig of his margarita, “But then I don’t. Because she was so awful to Henry. And yeah, people started to realize what kind of fuckery she was up to after the emails leaked and she clearly wanted Henry to stay stuffed in the closet, which was nice, and there are people still speaking up and being critical online and I just… It’s so frustrating to see all this nice happy shit about her and her corgis and her hats now? When I know what she was like? What she did to Henry, how ashamed she made him feel? I don’t even have the right to be as angry about it as I am because it’s not like I spent my life caged up like that, but I’m mad on his behalf, you know? And he’s so good about it, like he’s just been so mature, and I’m over here being like,” he gestures wildly with his hands, “You know. Me.”

“Yes, Alejandro, we know. You’re like a chihuahua with all that rage inside you. Not that she doesn’t deserve it,” Nora smiled.

“Ugh. Whatever. Of course this proves that Henry is an infinitely better person than me but—”

“But we knew that already. At least he gives us something to aspire to?” June added. Nora began clinking their glasses together. “Cheers to that, motherfuckers.”

* * *

They had to wait another 12 days before publication, and while Alex had expected Henry to be anxious about it, he was surprisingly calm and collected. The quiet confidence that Henry exuded at times like this did nothing but remind Alex of all the reasons he fell in love with Henry in the first place. That and his biting wit and his love of Star Wars and his gorgeous ass and his singular ability to put Alex in his place like no one else. The morning of its release, Alex had barely finished adding milk to Henry’s tea before June let herself in with a stack of magazines in hand.

“Are you ready?” she called to them, making herself comfortable on the couch.

“I suppose as ready as I’ll ever be,” came Henry’s terse response. Maybe he was just a little bit more uneasy than he had let on. He and Alex sat on either side of June, David scrambling up to join too, and watched with rapt attention as she flipped through to the centre feature: Henry’s interview. The subject matter made it inappropriate to include a styled shoot, so the editors had instead supplemented photos from the funeral and burial, and one inlaid shot from their trip to Montreal that June had posted on Instagram. Alex skimmed quickly over the introduction and pleasant exchange about Henry’s charity work, scanning until he found the pointed question he knew everyone would be looking for.

  
 _TJ: So, Henry, it’s probably no secret that this interview feature is a big deal due to your relative silence on your grandmothers passing. Can you speak to that a bit? What was your relationship with your grandmother, Queen Mary, like?_

_PH: Yes, I thought it was probably high time that I set the record straight and dispel the rumours that I’ve seen floating around in the tabloids. It’s funny because they write stories as though we will never see them — and I try not to, really, but some of the stuff is inevitably going to come into my life by way of my PR team, or more likely from June [Claremont-Diaz] [laughs]. My relationship with my gran was not perfect— you’ve all read the emails about how I feel, or felt about her. I do have some positive memories of our time spent together when I was a child, her and my granddad taking us for picnics on the Kensington grounds and special trips to Llywynywermod. But truthfully, the role I had to play in her monarchy was not one that was honest to myself, and I had to deal with both internalized and very real, lived and experienced homophobia because of it. I can’t fault her for being afraid to allow me to be openly gay; it was simply something that hadn’t been done before in the royal family and it’s no surprise that she didn’t know how to handle it, especially with the generational divide. She was very concerned with appearances and, given the nature of the work, understandably so. I just never quite fit in with those appearances, and I’ve come to terms with it. We really settled what our relationship was going to look like after Alex and I were outed [by the Richard’s campaign] and I’m happy we said everything that needed to be said since them. I’m sure she was angry with me but we also came to a place of mutual respect and a policy to agree to disagree on many issues._

_TJ: That makes a lot of sense. Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m curious about why are you choosing now, after a few months since her passing, to speak out about this closure with your grandmother._

_PH: I think the dust has settled somewhat and I think it’s also gotten to a point where I feel I need to put a stop to all of the speculation. Realistically, I_ _know everybody wants the to make some kind of exposé on what kind of person Queen Mary really was, to have there be a dramatic story, to flood the news cycle with awful things that will bleed my family dry for the clicks and likes. I’m just not interested in that, really, and I have no desire to berate my grandmother or provide any kind of unnecessary details to the public because I think it’s unfair not only to her, as she’s no longer with us, but also to me. [pause] I’d like to think that I’m more than my relationship to my grandmother and more than just my place in the royal family. I'm quite proud of the life that Alex and I have made together, and what I've accomplished on my own. I truly hope people are understanding of that. I think we are also entitled to our privacy like any other family who doesn’t want their dirty laundry laid out to dry in the middle of town square. Certainly we live much more public lives and that comes with the territory, and so I’ll say this, for the record, and I believe I shan’t say any more about it. Ultimately, I have been able to have what I have always wanted, regardless of her approval. People are more than welcome to be critical of her and her decisions and her impact over the years, but I really feel as though I’ve said everything that needs to be said on the matter._

The rest of the article delved into Henry’s experience growing up royal a bit more, touching on his introverted nature and his unwillingness to draw attention to himself. The conversation shifted to a lighter tone near the end, asking Henry about some of his newer, bolder fashion choices, favourite designers, and of course a few cheeky questions about his relationship with Alex. Alex breathed a sigh of relief as he looked over at Henry, and Henry smiled at him. He had done the big, scary thing, and they’d come out in one piece. In all honesty, Alex was blown away by how Henry had managed to be direct, clear, and honest about his experience and set a firm boundary on his unwillingness to speak on it further. But he was also taken aback at the generosity Henry extended towards the Queen, even though she didn’t deserve it. That kind of grace and maturity made Alex feel all kinds of emotions he wasn’t even sure he could name, so he simply got up and folded himself up in Henry’s lap. It was distinctly possible that his heart might actually burst from the love and affection, the pure adoration he felt towards Henry in that moment.

“I’m so proud of you,” Alex said against Henry’s jaw, planting kisses along the hard lines of his face, from his ear all the way down to his chin.

“Thanks, love,” Henry said back as he leaned into Alex’s touch.

“Okay, y’all are being gross right now, but I will give credit where credit is due. That was a great interview, Henry. I think you’ll have shut the Sun and the Daily Mail and all those trash magazines up for a little while. You might have some other serious papers comin’ after you too. I’m glad I set you up with Tamara.” Henry gave June a grateful smile and gently touched his head to hers.

“Yeah. Me too. Thank you, June, really, truly, I’m quite happy with how it all turned out.”

“Does this mean we get to have champagne now?” June asked. As per usual, she didn’t wait for a response and pulled a bottle of Moet & Chandon from the fridge. “I hope you weren’t saving this for something in particular!” Alex and Henry shook their heads.

“Nah, just the customary emergency bottle,” Alex laughed. “But it is still like, 9 o’clock in the morning, Bug.”

“I’ll put some orange juice in it and we’ll call them mimosas!” And Alex could absolutely not disagree with that solid logic. He felt amazing, even more so as the champagne bubbles diffused across his tongue. It all just felt so right, settled, in a way that the world hadn’t since Queen Mary had died. Somehow, he hadn’t realized just how much the anticipation of the interview had been weighing on him, how much the aftermath of Mary’s death had been casting long shadows around the house that slipped around the corners when he tried to look at them directly. Even if things couldn’t be normal the way they had been before, they could start to move forward without looking over their shoulders for Queen Mary’s disapproving glare, they could walk into a life that felt fully in their control. The steps might be shaky at first, but as Alex looked toward the future, it seemed like this new world could be even better than the one they left behind.   
  


* * *

  
The following weekend, Henry jumped out of bed, threw open the curtains, and hopped in the shower before Alex had so much as rolled over. He was already putting on a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt when Alex checked his phone to see what time it was. And for some reason, it was 8:30 on a Saturday. Alex grumbled as Henry started pulling the sheets up to make the bed with Alex still in it.

“Ugh,” Alex said, as he threw his arm dramatically over his eyes.

“Time to get up my love. We’re going to the hardware store!” came Henry’s cheerful reply.

“No offence baby, but like... have you ever been to a hardware store?”

“I have! Maybe. I think. Once? When I was younger, with my dad.” His look was sheepish, as though that might not have actually been the case. Alex thought Henry was probably, most likely, almost definitely stretching the truth at least a bit.

“And what, if I dare ask, are we going to be getting there? Please tell me you have a vague idea of what you’re doing.”

“We’re getting paint. And paint supplies. I want to paint the office… Or the spare bedroom. I’m feeling inspired. Like I just need to _do_ something. What do you think?”

“Sure, baby, whatever you want.”

“You didn’t answer the question,”

“Um. In my defence, Your Highness, my current state could not be properly defined as awake…” He paused for a beat to think. “The office I guess? But really it doesn’t matter to me.” Alex pushed himself out of bed and threw on his own casual outfit. Henry's inspired energy and unbridled enthusiasm was infectious, plus Henry's bribe of a blow job later helped to get him moving. They grabbed baseball caps and sunglasses to help prevent being recognized, but these days it was mostly an exercise in futility. Alex honestly could not remember the last time they had gone out in New York without someone recognizing them. Being the FSOTUS and Prince of England and the whole Waterloo Letters scandal were bad enough already, but since Grand Marshalling Washington, D.C. Pride last June, many queer people had felt much more comfortable approaching them to thank them for their visibility, or how Alex and Henry’s story impacted their own lives. This was certainly one of the upsides of their positions, and it was incredibly moving, but Alex didn’t particularly feel like crying amongst paint cans and masking tape today.

Since it was one of Aaron’s days off, Henry had arranged for one of their other regular PPOs, Julia, to assist Cash. The two of them strolled casually along at close distances in plain clothes, pretending to be interested in the prices of paintbrushes, to give the boys space as they stared at a wall of colour. Alex had quickly figured out that Henry already had quite a well-formed idea of what he wanted for the office, as he pretended to take Alex’s comments into consideration before plucking out three rather similar forest green paint chips.

“What do you think?” Henry said thoughtfully, fanning the swatches out for Alex to compare.

“I like the green one,” Alex said with an impish smile. Henry’s response was nothing but predictable: “You’re a little shit.”

Henry pondered for a little while longer while Alex gathered up all of the necessary painting supplies (and a new brass desk lamp) into their cart. As an additional design contribution, he also grabbed a couple small potted plants; he knew that Henry was just dying to be a Plant Gay™ stereotype anyways. When Alex returned to find Henry in the exact same spot he had left him, he had finally decided on _Deep Viridian_ as the correct colour choice. And he only second guessed himself once. The paint was mixed for them by a young employee who, once getting over her initial starstruck daze, asked for a selfie, and since the can was in the shaker, they took a few photos with her while they waited. The cashier recognized them too, of course, but she was incredibly polite about it and didn’t cause a big fuss, which they both told her they appreciated greatly. Henry paid for their order, and they started to make their way back out to the car to load it up.

Before they could make their way back out to the parking lot, a man with a rather large and unwieldy stroller caught Alex’s eye. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, his black hair greying around his temples, his skin a rich brown a few shades darker than Alex’s own. The man was pushing the stroller forward and pulling it back in a rocking motion to soothe the baby inside as he waited by the door, shushing some garbled cries, saying that daddy would be there in a second. Sure enough, not a minute later, another man, tall, blonde, also around his mid-thirties, entered the store with a toddler on his hip. This man looked into the stroller bassinet, cooed a few words, smiled at the baby, and then smiled up at his partner. The baby stopped fussing, and the couple relaxed dramatically as they walked off down the aisle. It took a few moments for Alex to tear his eyes away. 

Alex had always thought he would have kids. It all seemed like part of the plan. Go to school, meet a nice girl, get married, buy a house, have a few kids and a Golden Retriever. Then he met Henry, and he didn’t see why he couldn’t have all of those things, too, even if it wasn’t quite in that order; they already had the house and the dog, and the rest would fall into place eventually. Besides Alex’s previous admonition that they could produce heirs, just like Queen Mary had wanted, he realized he hadn’t really talked to Henry about children, or more frankly, how or when they might have them, since it certainly couldn’t happen by accident. But seeing this beautiful young couple, maybe ten years ahead of Alex and Henry, picturesque and domestic, out with their kids at the fucking hardware store, it made Alex’s heart clench in a way he wasn’t sure if he had ever experienced before. It felt a little like jealousy, inky and green around the corners, but it was so much warmer, so much brighter, filled in with comfort and contentment and completeness, dotted with the glittery feeling of desire and need. He wanted what that family had, and finally seeing it in vivid colour allowed that feeling to settle, to make a home, inside his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again so much for reading, absolutely overjoyed to have any/all of you joining in this journey, especially with this being the longest chapter yet! I appreciate all the comments & kudos so much, and it's so encouraging as a baby fic writer to have people engage here. 
> 
> Also would highly recommend checking out Dark Tourist on Netflix!


	8. swing with you for the fences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heart-to-heart conversation and some sex. That's all. 
> 
> CW: sex.

The second coat of paint in the office had finally dried, and it was time to finish up and take off the painter’s tape around the trim and ceiling. As it turned out, having a little home project to complete was the perfect team building exercise for Alex and Henry. Alex was actually incredibly grateful that Henry had come up with the activity, especially since it was something that was clearly outside of both of their comfort zones. And it didn’t hurt that Henry decided to paint wearing nothing but boxer briefs in order to avoid getting paint on his clothes... Alex thought maybe it was worth painting the entire house to keep soaking in the sight of Henry’s back muscles with a slight glisten of sweat, his biceps flexing while working the paint roller, his choice of underwear not leaving much to the imagination. Not that Alex needed to imagine, though— he’d already seen it all. A number of times. 

They started on opposite sides of the room, peeling up the tape and sticking it together into one giant ball, the edges clean and incredibly satisfying. They worked in silence for a while, while Alex hummed to himself in contentment in the quiet of the room, the domesticity of his life with Henry, this sheer and almost strange level of normalcy they rarely ever had. It was one of those brief and infrequent glimpses into the lives of regular people that they didn’t get to be. He felt a flicker of something, tight around his heart, that emotion he’d not yet named, the vision of the family he’d seen at the hardware store appearing in his mind… certainly not for the first time since he’d seen them.

“Did you see that really cute family when we were leaving the hardware store yesterday? With the two dads?” Alex asked, his voice soft and inquisitive. He was forcing himself to seem casual with great effort. 

“Yeah, I did. I love seeing queer couples with kids when we’re out. It’s one of the best things about New York, really.” Henry responded. Alex couldn’t help but smile over at him.

“Yeah… looking at them, I just think, like, that could be us one day, you know?” Alex said. Henry didn’t answer. Suddenly, the beaming, proud feeling he’d be floating in came crashing through him as his stomach began to sink down to somewhere around his knees. He swallowed, trying not to panic. He started compiling a list of reasons of why Henry maybe hadn’t responded or maybe why he didn’t want kids at all. One, they hadn’t really talked about this before. One, oh god, they really should have talked about this, what if they couldn’t get past it? What if they wanted completely different things, and Alex had misread it, and now what were they going to do? One… _Fuck,_ Alex thought.

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Henry finally said in a rather non-committal tone. Alex sucked in a breath through his teeth as he waited for Henry to gather his thoughts and elaborate, trying to be patient instead of exploding out of his skin, which felt like it was frostbitten and simultaneously on fire. “I just get so sad thinking about any future children of mine being subjected to the same kind of scrutiny that I was growing up. You must know what I mean, love, you’ve been there… Like… any kids of ours are going to be so glaringly in the spotlight. After everything we’ve been through, I don’t know if I’d want my children to experience what I did.” Henry still hadn’t met his eyes.

“Henry, baby, nobody in our family is going to treat our kids the way your gran treated you.” Alex blurted out. He quickly tried to regain his composure, trying to think more rationally about it from Henry’s perspective, a perspective he was not at all surprised by, when he thought about it critically for a goddamned millisecond. How had he not seen this coming? He tried again. “But I totally understand not wanting the general public breathing down the necks of babies just because they came from us… however we decided to have them.”

“I don’t know if I’d want to place the burden of being an heir to the throne on them. They didn’t ask for it— I certainly didn’t, and I wish things had been different for me. I’m not even sure if I’d want us to be bringing children into the world if I’m still…” he paused for a beat, and swallowed hard before getting the words out, “Second in line. It just doesn’t seem right.”

“Yeah… I guess we don’t have to have kids after all.” Alex said. “It was the Queen that was all on our asses about ‘producing heirs’ so. We can make our own decisions about this stuff.” He concluded, his tone much more bitter than he had intended. Henry turned his head suddenly, finally, at the shift in Alex’s tone, searching his face for an explanation.

“Hey, love, I’m sorry, have I upset you?” Henry reached out, and touched Alex’s shoulder. He eased into the touch, and felt the dam begin to break. The next words rushed out before he had a chance to think about them. 

“It’s fine, I know we don’t even have to be worried about it just yet, we’re not even married or anything, and it’s okay if you don’t know what you want to do right now, but like. I…” Much to his surprise, he started to feel his throat close up, the words difficult to get out. “I… I really think I want to be a dad. And I want to do that _with you_ … because I think you’d just be such an amazing father, I can just see it now, you're so kind and gentle and understanding and you try so fucking hard… and seeing that family yesterday, I don’t know, it just made me feel like maybe we should be able to have that too. But. Yeah.” Now his eyes were wet, it was stupid, he didn’t even know why he was upset about it. If Henry didn’t want to have kids, he would be okay with that, it was fine, really, it was not that big of a deal. Honestly. It wasn’t. It was just some dumb thought he had.

“Hey, Alex, love, look at me—” Henry cupped Alex’s jaw with both hands. Alex tried to pull away, but Henry held firmly and looked tenderly into Alex’s eyes. The look of absolute love shining in his face was almost unbearable. “Please, I think you’ve misunderstood me, let me explain?” Alex sniffed. Henry continued.

“Look. It’s scary, I am… certainly afraid of having children and seeing how the lives we lead might impact them. You must understand what coming into that kind of recognition is like, and for you, you were young and all, but I can’t possibly describe what it’s like to see those photographs of me in these stupid tabloids, barely out of nappies and having to pose in front of thousands, millions, of people, it… does something to you. It frightens me, absolutely, but… Alex, I’m not saying I don’t want to have kids with you, truly, I would love nothing more. I want to do that _with you_ , too. _Because of_ you.” Henry pressed a kiss to Alex’s lips, and wiped away his tears with his thumbs.

“Really? Henry, you don’t have to say all that just because I’m upset right now. And we don’t have to make a decision right now, either… We’re 24 and 25. We’re not even married yet! We have time to figure it all out.”

“I’m not just saying it. It’s something I’ve thought about before. A lot. It’s just that I have… I’ve just imagined a very different life for us, if we wanted to have children, is all I’m saying, I’m so sorry if I’ve not communicated that very clearly. And you’re right, we do have time to get everything sorted.” Henry kissed Alex again.

“When you say that you’ve imagined a different life… what do you mean by that?” Alex asked. How different could their life possibly look? He genuinely had no idea what Henry was going to say next, and he certainly was not prepared for the answer that came next.

“Alex… The life I had pictured for me… and you, with kids, and another dog or three… It means... It means I’m not a royal anymore. Whatever you decide to do with your career, it’s all up to you. But I always thought if I got to live the life I wanted, if I actually got to be gay, to have a husband, and three little babies, I’d want them to know that the family is my number one priority, not a monarchy. That I had them because I wanted them, not so they could be heirs to the throne or be puppets in a Queen’s performance or servants to a nation. Alex, if you’re telling me you want to have kids, and I think you are, then… I think that means I would have to abdicate. Just work at the shelters, live off of the money from my dad and whatever you’re making as a lawyer. I know that it’s probably not the life you’d envisioned up until this point, but… if you’re in it with me, then it’s the life I want.”

Alex was breathless. The deep profession and demonstration of Henry’s love for him, for their future, the shininess in his eyes, made Alex burn and tingle, a warm crackling feeling engulfing him from the inside out. He could see it now, although the pieces had moved around a little bit, the possible life that he and Henry could have. And he could see flowers - bluebonnets, red roses, boutonnieres and corsages, fireworks, champagne toasts, another smashed up wedding cake. Baby bottles and fuzzy blankets, piles of laundry, grass stained knees and teeny tiny shoes, sauce simmering on the stove, messy colouring pages, sitting on the counter taste-testing something Henry had attempted to make, feeding it to the dogs when it was too burnt for them to eat. Bringing their children to the lake house every summer, sitting at the kitchen table helping them with homework, teaching them how to play lacrosse and ride horses for polo. There were no words that he could find to sum up this feeling, like he could see everything that had happened up until this point, and everything that could happen as a new timeline, a new life, blossomed and unfurled before them. 

“Of course I'm in it with you. Forever. Henry, sweetheart—“ he tried to say more. But Henry interrupted him.

“And that marriage comment was not lost on me, by the way.” Alex blushed. “You want to marry this sorry sod of a man?” Henry’s words may have been teasing, but his expression was as serious as it had ever been. 

“I’ve known for a long time that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Now please, shut up and kiss me.”

Not one to be told twice, Henry snaked his hand up into Alex’s hair, pulling hard, forcing a grunt out of him. Henry worked his way down the side of Alex’s neck, sucking, biting, licking, until he reached his collarbone. Alex automatically began to work on the buttons of Henry’s worn-in flannel, his now well-practiced hands made quick work of them, and he slid the shirt down Henry’s arms and dropped in unceremoniously on the floor. Then came his sweatpants, then his boxer-briefs.

“How are you still fully clothed?” Henry groaned into Alex’s ear.

“Try to keep up, your Highness,” he teased back, pulling Henry’s bottom lip between his teeth. And since he was never one to back down from a challenge, Henry wrenched off Alex’s clothes in record time, backing him out of the office, down the hall, and threw him back onto their bed. Henry clambered up on top of him, covering Alex’s entire body with the shadow of his, kissing him fiercely. He pulled away only for a moment to whisper, “I love you,” and made his way back down Alex’s body to his hipbones, then his thighs, then down to the sensitive skin on the inside of his ankle. When he finally made his way back up to Alex’s navel, Alex was making a rather forceful bargain to get Henry’s mouth around his cock. Fortunately, Henry finally relented, taking Alex in slow and deep, swallowing around him, and driving him absolutely wild. Like this, Henry was able to take him to another plane of existence. It was nothing but pure pleasure, white-out bliss, blinding sun and violent ecstasy. Alex lost control of himself, losing his hands in Henry’s hair, inventing new profanities and pleas for mercy, completely undone at the simple, and very well-practiced, flick of a tongue.

“Would you say I’m keeping up?” Henry smirked. But he didn’t bother waiting for a response as he came up to crush his lips to Alex’s in a kiss that was borderline painful. It left them both gasping for breath, clinging to each other as they tousled for dominance, rolling each other around the bed, pressing wrists to the mattress above their heads, teasing, giving, taking. Unable to tear his lips away from Henry’s, Alex reached into the space between them and began to stroke Henry’s cock in earnest, Henry following suit only a moment later to take Alex into his own fist. They moaned into each others mouths, grunting with the exertion, slick with sweat and desperate for a cathartic release. The air was heavy and warm, and it felt like the stars had descended into their bedroom, warm glow alive on their skin. Henry quickened his pace when he started to feel Alex’s tells, his kiss becoming erratic and paused as his brain forfeited the mental energy in favour of his base desires. Alex threw his head back, moaning. Without hesitation, Henry lunged for Alex’s exposed throat, roving his tongue over the pulse point, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, whispering “Mine,” in a low, wrecked voice that sent Alex out over the ledge of his impending orgasm, covering both their stomachs in cum, every muscle in his body testing and relaxing, filling him with a nurse of energy. It forced him to more passionately into jacking Henry off, and when the cursing and praising finally hit its peak and Henry retreated back into silence, Alex knew it was only a matter of seconds until Henry finished. He moaned, breathing heavy, kissing every inch of Alex’s face, and laughed as he relaxed into the release of pressure, collapsing limp-limbed and sticky onto Alex’s chest. They kissed lazily for a moment, revelling in the stillness of their post-orgasm haze, until they finally made their way to the bathroom to clean up.

After quickly wiping themselves down, they slipped back into bed, the soft hum of contentment alight in the air. They laid tangled together in silence for a little while, tracing patterns into each others skin, the steady rise and fall of their chests mirroring each other, breath by breath. Alex opened his mouth to say something, but then he realized he didn’t have anything he actually needed to communicate. Henry already knew. Everything he felt, everything he could have expressed, he had just poured back to Henry in the most physical, tangible of ways. What they had just confirmed between them, what they had decided for their future, had been consummated in that moment, that first kiss; it was the leap into the next part of their lives, even if they hadn’t quite started the journey yet. The best part was knowing that they had made the jump and knew what was waiting at the bottom. He was nervous, of course, what it all would mean for them and their families, how the world would receive the choices they had made. But he wasn’t scared anymore. He and Henry were on the same page, they were working towards a collective vision, and that’s all he needed to feel like everything was going to be okay.

For a moment, Alex remembered there there was an office full of half-peeled tape and haphazard furniture. He thought maybe they should go deal with it now, but decided against it in favour of staying wrapped up in Henry's arms. It could wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and waiting for this next chapter (even though it's short). I had written a back half of this chapter and realized it fit much better as the beginning of Chapter 9, and needed to flesh out a bit more of the ending to this story (we're getting there!) before committing to this set up. 
> 
> I'm about to hit 2000 hits which is just... absolutely mind blowing! Please know that I am so appreciative of every single one of you reading and enjoying this story with me.


	9. family that I chose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the lake house, and a trip back to London. 
> 
> CW: Discussions of infertility/ pregnancy.

**Token Black Friend™**

“ugh Nora we have talked about this, do I look like a person that wants to go portaging?   
Stop trying to rope everyone else into your weird white people hobbies  
Next you’re going to want us to go on skiing holidays”

**the only sane one here**

“In defence of white people, Henry and I have never gone portaging or camping of any sort.”

**irl chaos demon**

“What! Please! Guys!”

**AG/CD**

“yeah idk holls.   
this seems impractical and also like a way for those of us whose parents don’t have shares in patagonia to get mauled by a bear”

**irl chaos demon  
**  
“I want a canoe!  
God I’m so gay  
We’ll put in the roof rack of our Subaru ;)”

  
 **The Bug**

“Stopppppppp”

**His Royal Fucking Highness**

“Am I not the gayest one here anymore?”

  
**AG/CD**

“no babe. you definitely still are.”  
  


**His Royal Fucking Highness**

“Prince Henry Shocked Reaction.gif”  
 ****

**AG/CD**

“baby. you cannot use a gif of yourself as a reaction.”

**His Royal Fucking Highness**  
“Prince Henry Middle Finger.gif”

The group managed to talk Nora down and have her accept a long weekend vacation at the lake house in Texas over a portaging trip. June’s concession was that they could rent a canoe and go for a paddle on Lake LBJ if she really wanted, but she did drive home the point that she would never be caught dead driving a Subaru. They managed to settle on the Jeep Wrangler that Alex always favoured, especially driving out in the Texas summer heat.

This weekend was, in some ways, an attempt to make up for the absolutely botched Montreal trip that had been tainted by Mary’s premature (or perhaps, long overdue, Alex thought scornfully) departure from the world of the living, and this time, Alex would simply not have his celebration go anything but perfectly. Of course, this was a bit of a reach to accomplish given their personal planning skills as a group, as well as a direct contradiction to the chaotic messes they were as people, but it didn’t stop Alex from creating a Fun Itinerary™ of activities and a full-blown course-by-course menu. June tried to argue that making a schedule for a vacation was the opposite of a holiday, but Nora was not having any of it. She shockingly, for once, agreed with Alex.  
  
“I will give you something else to do with that mouth,” Nora chided, leaning in for a lingering kiss. Alex cursed at them to stop from the drivers seat, ordering Henry to throw something at them. Henry, out of spite and the sheer enjoyment of watching Alex squirm, did no such thing, and rested his hand on Alex’s thigh instead.

When they arrived, Alex gleefully unloaded his and Henry’s things into the largest bedroom inside the lake house, relegating June, Nora, and Pez to the guest room with two beds. They pretended to put up a bit of a fuss, but it was secretly Nora’s favourite arrangement, since it meant she actually got a bed to herself. She didn’t particularly like being touched while sleeping and the lack of air conditioning at the lake house made it even more unbearable. Pez and June could cuddle all they wanted. As for the bunkhouse, Bea arrived that evening to occupy it, with Parker and another new PPO in training, in tow. Everything was coming together exactly how Alex had imagined. Finally back in his favourite place, full of helados and cheap beer, he could forget about securing an articling placement or the work that lay ahead of him come September. He could forget about everything that wasn’t the sweat on his skin and the smell of campfire smoke and the way Henry’s hair felt in his hands, all soft and tousled from lake water.

The weekend unfolded in front of them, creating memories that would glow golden around the edges. They laughed. They drank. They ate. They swam. They laid in the sun and took goofy pictures on Bea’s film camera. They played games, read trashy magazines, and talked shit. They even went paddle boarding, much to June’s dismay, but luckily, Pez was the only one that ended up falling into the water. He claimed it was Alex’s fault, but everyone else knew to blame the four strawberry daiquiris he’d already consumed. The weather was perfect, barely a cloud in the sky as the sun glinted off the soft ripples across the water. A cool breeze made the Texas summer enjoyable instead of oppressive, the lake refreshing but not freezing. Even the mosquitoes seemed to be cooperating, for the most part.

“Did you see that tosh in the Daily Mail last week?” Bea said through a mouthful of tortilla chips and guacamole. They were laying on the dock on their towels around a delightful lunch spread.

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, darling,” Pez laughed.

“About Mazzy and Pip! You know the tabloids don’t talk out of their arse about them as much as the rest of us,” Bea rolled her eyes, “They’re you know, the perfect golden children, the crown jewels, whatever,”

“Henry’s got crown jewels too,” Alex giggled.

“Ew, Alex,” June slapped him on the arm before Henry could get the chance. Pez choked as he nearly sprayed his fifth daiquiri out his nose.

“ _Anyways_ ,” Bea said pointedly, “There’s been whispers about it for months now, since they’ve been married for almost 3 years now, everyone’s shocked that they haven’t produced a “royal heir” yet,” Her air quotes were dramatically exaggerated, her voice thick with disdain. “Some people are saying that maybe they don’t want children and they’re never going to have heirs, and it’s an affront to the monarchy, just like me and Haz. Like we’re forming some kind of mutiny. Or that mum has done a poor job of raising us. I saw some tweets speculating about Mazzy’s parents being rubbish and that’s why, and then I saw some others saying maybe one of them’s infertile.”

“Bollocks,” Henry said. He took a swig from his bottle of Shiner for emphasis.

“Obviously,” Bea continued, “But I actually think maybe they’re having some trouble getting pregnant. Mazzy’s told me before that she’s always wanted kids, and Pip’s got such a hard-on for the monarchy so of course he’s on board despite not knowing the first thing about being a dad. So what’s the hold up, anyways? And, well — and don’t tell mum, Henry— because I’m nosy, I looked through our merged calendar and she’s had a ton of medical appointments in the last few months.”

“Oh my god Bea! How long have you been sitting on this?!” Nora cried in disbelief.

“I don’t know, I really started noticing it in July, so it’s only been a couple weeks,”

“What am I supposed to do with this information?” Henry asked, genuinely unsure what to make of Bea’s latest intel.

“Nothing, I guess,” Bea answered, “Just thought I should share.” She smiled. “Not that I can blame them for putting it off, if that is what they’re doing. I don’t think I’d want to have kids with all the shite we have to put up with. I don’t need the Sun taking pictures of me looking like a bloody planet and talking about my baby weight. Also the conceiving part is, you know, also less than appealing for me.” She grimaced at the thought, but brightened at her next words, gesturing at Alex and Henry. “At least you two won’t have to carry or anything!” The boys looked at each other and smiled knowingly, thinking about all of the conversations they’d had since their first emotional breakthrough about kids a few months earlier. They hadn’t shared their thoughts with anyone, but it felt good to have that solid footing between them. There really was so much to look forward to.

“Hell yes! It’s one of the only actual privileges of being two guys in a relationship! Plus Henry and I will be total double DILF material.” Alex said proudly. There may have been more impact to his words if there hadn’t been strawberry juice smeared across his face, but it was hard to tell. The rest of them rarely took him seriously regardless.

“Again, Alex. Ew.” June complained. She dipped her hand into the lake and flicked some water up at Alex. This started an entire commotion, five of them squealing and throwing water at each other, Pez drunkenly and desperately trying to cover the food with towels and shielding the rest from harm with his body. Eventually the chaos resulted in a sibling versus sibling chicken fight, Bea on Henry’s shoulders, June on Alex’s, the girls grappling with each others arms while the boys tried to hold steady. When Alex lost his footing, Bea seized the advantage and managed to topple June over into the water, her screech undoubtedly audible across the entire lake. The winning royals gloated for the rest of the evening, knowing that the Claremont-Diaz’s would have been twice as insufferable if they had managed the win.

The sun started to set, melting a wash of orange and pink across the sky, cotton candy clouds and trails from distant planes leaving light patchwork in every direction. As they sat on the porch, the sun dipped quickly below the horizon, slowly, and then all at once, the way it always did when Alex tried to savour it. He sipped from his bottle of Shiner, leaning into Henry’s shoulder, solid and warm. Something about the lake house just made Alex feel contemplative. Maybe spending just summertimes here made him think about the year that had just passed, reflecting on all of the way he was different from the Alex that stood on the porch only a few seasons ago. How many of his cells had regenerated, how many of his worldviews had changed, considering if he was even the same person at all, even if he was seeing things through the same eyes. Here, in the heat and the humidity, away from the rush of expectation, he had always been able to plan for the year that was still waiting to happen, growing inside its shell like a chick about to hatch, his goals and aspirations lined up in lists as September and a new school year came into view. It was funny, this place, almost like visiting a time capsule in his own mind, the landmark events that had happened between each visit were as clear as day whenever he sat on the porch.

So much had changed since the last time they had been here. They had moved in together, for one thing, and they had grown tremendously, learning so much from and about each other. He was on track to become a lawyer, Henry paving the way for so many shelters and charities around the world. Queen Mary had died, and in that way, Henry was free. He was also ensnared yet again by his mother’s impending coronation, a change that might alter the foundations of their family forever. Sure, it was just a day, a title, a crown. But it also meant that Henry was the Queen’s son, and as such, how might his decisions feel larger, more closely examined under the microscope? And what about the next time they visited, who knew how many things would have changed? Would Henry have proposed to him? Would he have proposed to Henry? He let him think about it for only a fraction of a second until he corralled his thoughts back into line. Best not to get his hopes up. There was nothing wrong with the way things were right now. Actually, as he looked at his friends, his chosen family, all together around the fire, June and Bea singing in effortless harmony, he realized that his life had truthfully never been better. The real shame was that things couldn’t stay like this forever.   
  


* * *

  
After their trip to the lake house, the rest of the summer had passed in a haze of Aperol Spritzes in their backyard, walks through the park, lazy mornings laying naked in bed, and tender, soft, wild, crazy, unpredictable sex in every room of the house, and on every available surface. They managed to see June, Nora, and Pez pretty regularly, too, even if it was a quick coffee or lazy Netflix watching hangout. Somehow, September had flown by even more quickly, with a new semester of law school keeping Alex mostly buried in books or spending time on the NYU campus. The household flurry had extended into Henry’s work life, too, as he was consulting with a new team laying the foundations for the Mexico City shelter. Operations at the New York chapter were going smoothly, and Henry certainly spent more time there than was strictly necessary for his role, but he enjoyed the change of pace, connecting with the youth, and getting out of Alex’s way when his hyper-focus took over. Fortunately, Alex now had the perfect office space to sprawl out in with his stacks of books and giant Bristol boards of notes and case mapping, several cups of coffee laying abandoned on his desk. As the days grew shorter, and the cold chill of winter began to creep its way through the streets of New York, the next chapter in their lives was suddenly apparent, right before them in crystal clear view. The moment the world was holding its breath for, the event of the year, now so many months in the making. The time to go back to England for the coronation was finally upon them.

> To: [henry.fox@umbrellashelters.com](mailto:henry.fox@umbrellashelters.com)  
> From: [juneclaremontdiaz@claremont45.com](mailto:juneclaremontdiaz@claremont45.com)  
> Subject: A Really Big Favo(u)r  
> One Attachment  
>   
> Hey Henry,
> 
> I forgot to ask the last time I saw you because I thought it might be a bit overwhelming, but I heard you’re looking for a distraction on the way back to England and I thought maybe if you wanted to look at my manuscript I would really appreciate your opinion as a writer. I know you have never technically voluntarily published any of your work, but I would really value your feedback. No pressure obviously, but I just wanted to have another set of eyes on it before I send it to my editors for revisions. I trust you to be honest with me, so just let me know what you think!
> 
> I’m workshopping a few titles with the publisher right now, and I want something better than JUNE or The First Daughter or All-American Girl, like I’ve been suggested a million times. The one I’m really gunning for is _The Shadow of a Lad_ y (like the June Carter Cash song). Fingers crossed!  
>   
> You’re a real one, Fox. I am so happy Alex found a man with enough brains for the both of you.  
>   
> Xoxo
> 
> June

Henry opened the attachment on his laptop, and began to read. He rested his left hand onto Alex’s thigh, a comfortable ritual they had established to remain close even when they were both busy with work. It felt good to just be touching, to acknowledge their need for connection even if they were both preoccupied with other things; a reminder helped to ground them both in what was really important. They sat like this a lot, and it was one of those things that Henry couldn’t believe he had for real, the quiet comfort, the steadiness and relaxed stability of a loving, fulfilling, long-term relationship. It felt weird to be going to an occasion that he would loathe with someone he loved so deeply tucked into his side.

Alex spent the plane ride locked in on his latest paper for his Constitutional Law class, diving deeper than was entirely necessary once he started to really become invested in the topic. Henry could hear Cash and Aaron playing a game of cards across the cabin, the ride giving them a brief chance to relax before a few days of mayhem. He looked out the window to calm himself, to smooth out his emotions and press out the anxious kinks and wrinkles he had started to feel each time they had to come back to his so-called home country. The sky outside was filled with clouds, a solid blanket stretched out beneath them, obscuring any view of the Atlantic. The bright blues and whites below felt like the vastness of the ocean anyways, and Henry practiced some deep breaths before focusing back in on June’s memoir.

Once the bright lights of London came into view below them, Alex had to pull himself out of his own head and gather up his things to head down to Kensington yet again. This time, though, it was different. The cool air felt welcoming, autumn crisp leaves dancing down the runway, the atmosphere alive with hope and celebration instead of dread and anxiety. Sure, Alex loved being in England because it was where Henry was from, where he was born, and raised, and became the man he was, but typically he wasn’t so thrilled to be there under grey skies and judgemental British eyes. The English might be polite enough not to say anything that might be offensive, their racism didn’t need to be overt to be noticeable. Alex could always hear their thoughts anyways. After a lifetime of sideways glances and being watched at corner stores, it didn’t take much for him to tune in to how people really felt about him… especially when it came to stealing their beloved prince away to the U.S.A. Thankfully, this time they would be safe within the bustle of the coronation, security ten feet thick, that they would hardly be dealing with the public at all.

Kensington Palace was decked out for the coronation in ostentatious decor that was, for lack of a better term, fit for a queen. There were banners, displays, ribbons, plaques, every kind of commemorative memorabilia that could possibly be conceived, and likely an entire greenhouses’-worth of floral arrangements. It also appeared that they were running out of room for storing gifts sent from other nations, many of which took the form of rather large displays of art. Another foreign monarch had sent Catherine an actual statue of her likeness, though admittedly, it didn’t look much like her. His own mother, however, had refused to tell him what the Claremont administration had sent as a coronation gift because she wanted it to be a surprise. Alex just desperately hoped that it wasn’t something embarrassing, although he was sure Zahra would have figured out something perfect with Shaan’s help. Once they made it to Henry and Bea’s apartment, the quickly changed out of their plane clothes and headed down to dinner. Philip had emailed them earlier in the week to ensure that they would all attend a meal together in order to properly celebrate the coronation as a family. It was a gesture that seemed uncharacteristically thoughtful for Philip, but Alex was always on board for whatever would make Catherine happy.

They sat down at the table, the place settings felt like they were two feet wide and for a moment Alex’s thoughts were dominated by curses for whoever at Big Silverware began this idea that a separate fork is needed for salad. No wonder Henry had been so shocked and uncomfortable the first time he ate barbecue with his hands— here Alex was feeling like Leonardo goddamn DiCaprio aboard the Titanic. Once the drinks were served, it was surprisingly comfortable, the lilt of the conversation, the quick game of catch up they were all playing, asking kind questions and giving more than just simple answers. It seemed like Martha was actually genuinely interested in Henry’s work at the shelter, and Philip engaged with Alex beyond the usual platitudes and asking if he was enjoying law school still. Alex was even able to discuss some cases that he found interesting, Philip posing genuine questions and nodding along when Alex explained. Catherine looked almost beside herself in delight, repeatedly sighing about how happy she was to see all of her children together, getting along, enjoying each others company. She kept throwing her arm around Bea’s shoulder and squeezing her excitedly. The food was delicious, as it always was, if a little plain for Alex’s standards.

“I’m so glad you’re pleased to have us all here, mother, and I know it is rare we get to have an occasion like this, and really, the whole next few days will get to be about you,” Philip said clearly, obvious that he wanted everyone else to stop talking and listen. Alex thought it was a bit obnoxious, but whatever. He took another sip of champagne.

“Which is well deserved, by the way, mum,” Bea added, elbowing Catherine playfully. “We know you did so much to earn it.” Catherine shushed her even though she couldn’t keep herself from breaking into a cheeky smile.

“Right, well, then, um.” Philip began again, “Martha and I actually planned this dinner not only to celebrate mum’s coronation, because obviously that’s important, but we’d also like to share some news—”

“We’re pregnant!” Martha blurted, in a show of excitement that Alex had never seen from her before. Everyone else around the table gasped, even a few of the staff members that were within earshot. Alex was sure he heard someone’s fork clatter onto their plate. Suddenly, he noticed that Martha had been sipping the same sparkling juice that Bea had, not the champagne that he, Henry, Philip and Catherine had been enjoying. He could see the shadow of a grin on one of the PPOs faces.

“Oh, Pip! Mazzy! Oh my god! Congratulations!” Catherine squealed. She jumped out of her chair, almost knocking over the bread basket in the process, and scrambled towards Philip and Martha to wrap them both in an enormous, crushing embrace. Martha was laughing and Catherine started crying and before Alex knew it, they were all gathered around the expectant parents, participating in a rather awkward royal group hug. The exchanged words of disbelief and congratulations, and some of the generic questions were asked — how far along, possible due date, any morning sickness, if they were going to find out the sex of the baby, etcetera. Martha began to flush a bright and rather dramatic shade of pink. It stood out bright against her white skin, clashing with the red of her rather blobby looking sweater.

“Well, we’ve decided not to find out the sex, because it doesn’t matter anyways. But actually—” Philip cut her off before she could finish, now his own excitement starting to show through. It was a shocking display of something almost akin to a personality, which Philip had never managed to exhibit before.

“They’re twins! We’re having _two_ babies!” He exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Martha and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “We’re just so happy something finally worked. After all the treatments… I don’t think I’ve never been more thrilled about anything in my life.” Martha beamed up at Philip, and although Alex couldn’t possibly understand what she saw in his boring, very symmetrical face, he was really, truly happy for them.

Bea raised her eyebrows knowingly at Alex, their conversation from the lake house rushing to the forefront of his mind. There must have been some truth to the tabloids after all, if Martha and Philip had to seek assistive treatment to get pregnant. Alex hated knowing that those so-called reporter slime balls would get the sick satisfaction of having been on the right train of speculation, pulling apart something so deeply personal and sensitive. Once they had a small taste of success, they were ravenous for it, desperately clinging to tiny shreds of information, and it was even harder to shake them off. Secretly, Alex wondered if perhaps someone at the fertility clinic had leaked a snippet, or sent a whisper to the press; even just a sighting of them close to the location would be enough to run a story, but it wasn’t impossible for them to have made the leap on their own, either. It was just like the media to be able to twist and ruin something as exciting as trying to have a baby. Living under the magnifying glass sometimes meant that you were the ant that got burnt, and although he wasn’t Philips number one fan, he still didn’t wish that feeling of incineration upon him— plus, he had no ill will towards Martha. He hoped that when they did decide to announce the pregnancy, there may be some kinder words, or at least less judgment about the time it took to get them there. Sadly, any mention of IVF or fertility treatment would undoubtedly cause a swarm of controversy and questions of legitimacy. Of course, Alex thought, there’s nothing wrong with getting a little bit of help from science, but people can be cruel, especially when they’re allowed to hide behind the anonymity of a keyboard and computer screen. He and Henry would be in the same position one day, and he could only hope and pray that abdicating would be enough to keep away the same scrutinizing spotlight when it was their turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thanks so much for reading (especially as this was the longest chapter yet!)-- as always, comments are so appreciated, I love hearing what you all have to say. 
> 
> This chapter is indebted to the RWRB: A Grey Area Discord server for being so supportive since I joined the crew. <3


	10. give you my best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coronation! 
> 
> Everything I wrote about coronations I learned from Google :) 
> 
> CW: brief homophobic Tweet, sexy times.

The day of the coronation had finally arrived, the entire nation buzzing with excitement. It would be the first coronation televised in colour, the first to be broadcasted on the Internet, the first that’s beamed across social media platforms to the entire world. It was a momentous occasion in many respects, and Alex couldn’t believe that he was able to be a part of it. Not for the sake of the monarchy — that he could care less about — but being a part of history was something that he would never be able to get used to or feel less in awe of. His gorgeous, handsome, perfect boyfriend, would stand beside his mother as the first openly gay Prince ever. It was pretty fucking cool.

As had become routine, Bea wanted to get ready with Alex and Henry, but this time, they weren’t afforded the luxury of privacy. For such a high profile event, and with the celebratory occasion, they were all required to have professional hair and makeup teams doll them up before heading to Westminster Abbey. They all sat on high stools while the professionals wizzed around them. Bea’s light brown hair was piled up into a mountain of rollers while a tiny woman with box braids applied her pale foundation with an airbrush machine. Thankfully, Henry and Alex were able to get away with some powdered foundation instead, their respective stylists gushing over their perfect skin and amazing hair texture. Once they were all done up, they had to carefully get into their custom-made outfits, drafted, revised, and tailored to precision over the last six months, since they were to become the most published pieces of fashion for the entire year; maybe even the next, too. The Met Gala and Oscars combined wouldn’t even come close.

Philip Treacy had designed Bea’s outfit, which was not uncommon for formal royal occasions. Her purple hat was simply enormous, the brim at a dramatic angle that nearly touched her shoulder, the opposite end adorned with a mass of flowers and delicate paper butterflies. The matching purple dress was, comparatively, quite understated, but unmistakably Beatrice with its large white Peter Pan style collar and flowing fit. It would match perfectly to the crown that she was required to wear for the actual coronation. Rejina Pyo had designed for Alex, which he recognized was a risk, as she typically favoured more casual wear and almost exclusively designed for women, but it had paid off. The pastel blue, double-breasted suit with a crisp white dress shirt and white tie created the perfect contrast to his complexion, and the androgynous look was something he knew the Queen would have hated. Henry was similarly making quite a statement in his Oswald Boateng suit, and Alex did not mind one bit. He had picked a shocking, vibrant blue for his own suit, to coordinate with Alex, but it was made entirely of velvet. Paired with a white shirt and metallic black tie, he was an absolute vision of perfection, and Alex had half a mind to tear Henry right back out of it. All three of them had painted their nails a glittering, holographic silver, and they held their hands up in V’s to take a selfie together just before leaving their quarters. Even though the last time they had done the giant crowds and paparazzi and all-day public appearance had been draining, stressful, and exhausting, this time felt different. They could unabashedly show their emotions and celebrate in the joy of the day without any pretence or concerns about how they should be acting and reacting. Honestly, Alex was even looking forward to it; it felt like his mother’s inauguration all over again, but with older traditions. And crowns. 

Dozens of guards, handlers, and officials ushered them out to meet Philip, Martha, and Catherine on the terrace before being loaded into their vehicles. Although she would have to wear her ancient and ceremonial robe along with the crown jewels, Catherine was able to have her own dress crafted by her favourite designer, Vivienne Westwood, to her specifications. It was the traditional white, made of satin, just as her mother’s had been, but unlike Mary’s plain gown, Catherine had elected to cover hers in intricate embroideries in various colours of metallic thread and accented with tiny crystals. When it caught the light just right, the skirt reflected a shimmering rainbow. The attention to detail filled Alex’s chest with a warm feeling.Martha’s flowing empire-waist organza gown was classic and typical for her, a soft yellow with a giant bow on the front that perfectly hide her already protruding belly. The pregnancy announcement would have to wait until the coronation pandemonium had died down just a little. Philip, of course, was in his military uniform. It made Alex wanted to roll his eyes, but he plastered on a pleasant, charming smile to meet the crowds instead.

Once they arrived at Westminster Abbey, the amount of paparazzi and citizens was deafening, the roar of the people, the clicks of the cameras, the celebratory marching band that was playing in the distance, all rose above their heads in cacophony of noise. Cash kept close to Alex’s side, his finger pressed almost constantly to his earpiece, no doubt speaking to Aaron to survey the area. As much as Alex and Henry complained about PPOs and for all the times they had snuck away without their security teams, in this moment, they were appreciative as ever. In any of the few nervous moments where Alex actually felt unsafe or overwhelmed, knowing Cash was there undoubtedly made him feel more confident. Several yards away, he could see Aaron’s head many inches above the throngs of people, and he could physically feel Henry’s shoulders release their tension. After walking at a snails pace in order to allow what felt like thousands of photos to be taken, they made their way to their seats at the front of the church. Henry and Bea would abandon him part way through to go stand with their mother, leaving Alex to sit with Martha and pass her tissues when she inevitably started crying.

The ceremony was long, but Alex didn’t mind. He adored watching Catherine, nervous, but still proudly beaming, as she recited her oaths and was anointed with oil. Catherine was then guided to the gilded Coronation chair, her hands a little shaky, as the crown was solemnly placed on her head. After a beat, all of Westminster Abbey erupted in a cheer of “God save the Queen! God save the Queen! God save the Queen!” Alex joined in, too, though the tea-dumping part of his heritage may have protested. The cries were just too momentous to avoid. He watched with awe as all of the important royal peers, placed their own respective coronets on their heads, completely taken by surprise at the pure beauty of a tradition, centuries old, being enacted for the first time in almost fifty years. The way Henry looked in a crown certainly added to his feelings of enchantment, the whole Prince Charming look really coming together as the gold fleur-de-lis around his head warmed his pale skin, his blue eyes shiny with unshed tears. At that precise moment, Henry looked at Alex, and smiled. This may have been the only instance in Henry’s life so far where he didn’t hate his bloodline, and Alex couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. For just a few seconds, Westminster Abbey contained two people, two young men in a line of legacy, two twin hearts that defied all odds to be there. It was strange, almost, how much it seemed that the world had change in only a matter of a few years. Henry, too, Alex reflected on again, as he traced the lines of his body with eyes, every inch of him in defiance to the past that sought to hold him down. Every inch of him truly, beautifully, human, and also a symbol of hope. A testament to how much one person could make a difference. He hoped that Catherine would do right by her son, and move the country forward just as much.

As quickly as it had come, this precious moment was broken by the resounding clanging of bells and the blasting of trumpets, startling Alex back to attention. The noise was followed by the gun salutes that echoed in the distance from Hyde Park and the Tower of London.

“God crown you with a crown of glory and righteousness, that having a right faith and manifold fruit of good works, you may obtain the crown of an everlasting kingdom by the gift of him whose kingdom endureth for ever.” The pasty archbishop bellowed to the congregation. At this, Alex watched as all of the guests bowed their heads, and he quickly dipped his own to follow suit.

“Amen,” everyone said in unison. Catherine, now officially the Queen of England, rose once more. Her royal stole and heavy red velvet surcoat was removed, and were replaced with the Imperial Robe of purple velvet by the attendants. The entire audience waited with bated breath as Catherine picked up The Sceptre with the Cross and the Orb, and in a move that was so silly Alex was certain it had never been done before, she held it up over her head in a triumphant shake before hugging it to her chest, the orb resting heavily on her shoulder. The cavernous room was filled up to its arched stone rafters with the musical sound of laughter and cheers as the organ began to blast the national anthem.

As was customary, the service concluded with a closing procession, as Catherine marched out of Westminster Abbey, every person in the entire building sang along to the music at the top of their lungs. In the parade after the new queen, Philip led the charge, followed by Bea and Henry. This time, Alex was allowed to amble along behind Martha in the parade, marking his debut as a consort to the royal family. Much to his surprise, he didn’t hate it. For once, it felt like he was actually supposed to be there, meant to be there, wanted, and sending a message the world with every step he took: he belonged here, and nothing could change that.

They headed back to Buckingham Palace, where the members of the royal family (which didn’t include Alex, thankfully) were scheduled to sit for their royal portraits and appear on the balcony to watch a fly-over display from the Royal Air Force. Alex couldn’t wait to see the artistic rendering of Henry’s face in acrylic, immortalized on canvas, but as he assured him, Henry was already a work of art. They made their way down to the palace ballroom, after stretching their limbs from being in the same position for too long. There, they were to attend a celebratory banquet with hundreds of the most important guests of the monarchy. It was a raucous occasion, despite all of the supposed propriety, with plenty of champagne flowing and indulgent food being enjoyed. Caterers kept bringing course after course to the tables; Alex tried to count how many, but lost track after eight or nine. He extricated himself from several over-enthusiastic guests, and, unable to break through the throng of people surrounding Henry and his family, Alex made his way over to the dessert spread. He plucked a profiterole off of a four-foot tall croquembouche and took in the scene, every square inch of the room filled with joy that radiated through every person, infectious in its lightness. There were more floral arrangements than he could count, enormous vases of red, white, and blue roses, giant carved ice sculptures, and what seemed like the entire London Philharmonic Orchestra playing music, guests taking to the dance floor in a vast array of styles both traditional and modern. Several hired photographers circled the room, jockeying for the best angles— as one rounded on Alex, he was feeling generous, so he lifted his champagne glass in a salute and winked. That one would sell for a pretty penny, he was sure. Eventually, he made his way back to Henry, slowly and surely, charming each person into a stupor before excusing himself to greet the next person in line. When they were finally reunited, Henry kissed Alex tenderly, bringing one hand to the side of Alex’s head, thumb resting on his cheekbone. Alex melted into the kiss, wrapping his free arm around Henry’s waist. It was a bit showy, especially for Henry, but it was also a great middle finger to Mary’s memory and marked the beginning of a new era. The new Queen was here, and it was her rule from now on. Things were going to be different, that one thing was for certain.

By the end of the evening, Alex could see Henry’s gentle and introverted nature start to bleed through his shiny, postured exterior. His smile became more distant, his eyes tired from a day spent blocking out his anxiety and keeping a bright face on for the adoring public. Too many cameras and cellphones were out to let the mask drop for even a second. Henry was able to manage longer now, with Alex by his side, and without Mary staring daggers, ready to quip at any moment, but he still only had a limited tolerance for the pomp and circumstance of it all. Alex ran his hand up and down Henry’s back, the velvet of his suit jacket soft and smooth against the roughness of his palm. The tendon in Henry’s neck clenched. Alex looked desperately around for Shaan, trying to see if there was a way to get this day over with and Henry back to safety. As if he was telepathic or could somehow sense Henry’s anxiety like some kind of distress beacon, Shaan emerged from behind a swan-shaped ice sculpture and wove his way through the crowd to Henry’s side. Using his most authoritative voice, he requested that Prince Henry simply must come with him at once due to some sort of made up excuse. They excuse themselves, and tumbled, giggling, back into the car where Alex proceeded to climb into Henry’s lap and cover his face in sloppy kisses. Shaan politely pretended to ignore them from the front seat, making small talk with the driver and tapping away on his tablet as they take off down the road to return home to Kensington Palace.

**@catradoraiscanon** did u SEE what HRH Henry was wearing at the coronation!

 **@claremont_stan** uh YAAAS who didn’t I literally cannot even 

**@catradoraiscanon** and they way he & ACD look at each other! I died  
  
**@alexhawthornes** **@catradoraiscanon** ASKFJJFDASLKJFSA;JKFDAJ;

 **@the_tracy_genevieve @OfficialQueenCatherine** literally YAAAAS KWEEEEEN

 **@armstrong1978** your Royal Highness “Prince" Henry is a fucking Queen too

 **@clevertwitterhandle** omg fuck off **@armstrong1978** literally nobody asked you   
  


* * *

They arrived back at Kensington, but in addition to their escorts from Buckingham, there are already multiple police cars across the premises, their lights flashing, cutting bright swaths blue and red through the darkness. Alex could make out several officers with flashlights moving across the lawn, searching the gardens.

“Shaan… what is happening?” Alex asked. Fear started to rise up his throat, creeping from low in his abdomen and making him feel hot and sweaty. Henry remained silent, fidgeting with his shirt cuffs. Shaan made for his phone, but before he could make a call, Parker popped up at the passenger-side door, and rapped on the window. The driver unlocked the doors and they slipped into the back seat beside Alex. Relief washed over him almost immediately; if Parker was coming to talk to them, things must be going alright. Henry hadn’t looked up and was now rather fixated on picking at his cuticles.

“Sorry to have alarmed you — Shaan, my apologies for not looping you in sooner. I was dealing with some of the more junior PPOs that were stationed at the residence today. As I’m sure you are aware, most of our senior staff were required at the actual venue,” Their silence pressed Parker to continue. Alex realized they must have remained at Kensington, since Bea had been accompanied by her new PPO Marcel all day. They ran a hand through their short bleached blond hair. “It appears there was an attempted break in today while the assailant presumed all eyes would be on Westminster Abbey and Buckingham Palace for the Coronation. No idea what the motive was, and we’re got multiple teams of private security and state law enforcement on the hunt. Single person, white man, though I guess we can’t be sure about their gender identity,” Parker smirked, and Alex smiled back. “We couldn’t catch the face on our CCTV scans. I’ve been asking for higher tech ones but Catherine said it was a waste of crown funds.” They rolled their eyes, but it was still affectionate. “You know how she is, but maybe this will make her see my point… Anyways! They’re just clearing up here to make sure there isn’t anything else suspicious going on. But it looks like we’ve got everything under control, I’m hopeful that the police will catch the trail and be able to apprehend him. They brought the scent dogs and everything, so… I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“Ugh.” Henry groaned. Shaan twisted in his seat to look at him.

“Alright, Your Highness?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be fine. I’m just… tired.” Henry drops his head limply against Alex’s shoulder. “Of course this had to happen today, I don’t suppose there’s ever a normal day in this family.” He said with a defeated laugh. Alex grabbed Henry’s hand and began to rub soothing circles on it with his thumb, a technique that often worked to help ground him.

“Do we think that whoever this person is had any help? Or if they will try again?” Alex asked. Parker thought about their answer for a second, and then said, “Honestly? I’m not sure. But I can guarantee that he knows that we’re watching now, and that it would be absolutely idiotic to try something again. We’ve doubled the security everywhere, and we can make any other adjustments if you request them.” Shaan nods to Parker and thanks them for the debrief. Alex isn’t sure he’s ever heard them speak this much all at once before; usually Cash and Aaron do all of the talking. Despite Parker’s young age and slight build, he knew they must be good at their job, but he finds himself even more impressed by them now.

“Let me know if you guys need anything, but I think Aaron and Cash will catch up with you in a minute. They can go up to your rooms with you if you’d like. It probably won’t be much longer until everything is cleared up.” Parker makes to leave, but pauses with their hand on the door handle. Alex notices for the first time that there is a small tattoo on the inside of their wrist that looks like a capital A with a spade beside it. “Okay. I’ll touch base with you in a bit. And um, if you see Bea, tell her I say hi.”

“Yeah, sure—” Alex started to say back, but Parker was flushing pink and hurried out the door before he could finish. They waited in the car, sleepy and warm from the alcohol, until Shaan gave the go-ahead to the driver to bring them up to the doors. It could have been fifteen minutes, it could have been an hour. It was hard to say. But he was glad that they both had teams that clearly would do anything to make sure that they were safe.

The care Shaan has for Henry was always evident, but Alex softened even more at the equerry’s gentle approach with Henry now, ensuring that he felt alright and that his anxiety was under control. Aaron and Cash met them at the car when they arrived, escorting them up to the rooms and checking everything over once more to make them feel secure, although Alex started to think they were likely doing it more for their own comfort than for Alex or Henry’s. They swept Bea’s rooms as well, although they’ve called Marcel to check again once Bea returns from Buckingham as well. After they’ve finished, they both insisted on stationing themselves outside of the entrance to the apartments, and arranged for shifts of PPOs to circulate around outside to ensure no-one is trying to enter through the windows.

Alex would normally have it in him to protest such over-the-top treatment, but tonight, he doesn’t, and it seems to comfort Henry. All of Kensington is quiet, and they don’t say anything as they began to get ready for bed. As carefully as they could, each piece of designer clothing was removed and placed back into the garment protectors and hung in the closet, and they slumped to the bathroom in their underwear to wash the day’s makeup and sweat and grime off of them. Finally, they were able to collapse into bed, curled up in each other on the soft sheets, blankets pulled up around them, safe and warm. For the first time since the woke up this morning, they had silence. Finally.

A few minutes passed, their breathing slow and even as they tangled their limbs together. Then Henry’s lips found Alex’s in the dark, and all of a sudden it was lips and tongues and teeth and hands, a current of electricity passing between them through their touches. Alex licked a trail down Henry’s neck, down the dip of his collarbone, down the centre of his goddamn perfect abs. Alex knew that this day has been long, and he certainly knew that Henry is tired. More than tired, Henry is exhausted; but he also needed the release. So when Alex told him to lay back and keep his hands to himself, he listened. And he listened to the sounds Alex makes as he swallows around him, a contented hum followed by a desperate groan, so perfect and beautiful it could be music. Music that is better than anything he could ever learn from a classical book — it carried him to another plane of existence, up through the roof of the palace and into some celestial body. When Henry had sufficiently lost himself, he grabbed a hold of Alex’s curls with his left hand, his right arm had been flung over his eyes since they began. But Alex tutted and pulled his mouth off of Henry, sliding back up his body and kissed his collarbone, his neck, the space just below his ear, his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, and finally, agonizingly his lips.

“No touching,” Alex warned, “or I’m going to have to tie you up for your insolence.”

Henry whimpered something unintelligible in reply. “Now. Where were we? Ah. Yes.” Alex pulled Henry’s hands away from his body and placed them above Henry’s head towards the gilded headboard that he hated so much, and Henry settled them behind his own head, the picture of relaxation, like he was kicking back on the beach in the sun. Alex could almost see the freckles grow across his skin. Feeling Henry hard against him, he tracked his way back down to resume his steady work of blowing Henry’s… mind. There were a few moments where Henry instinctively tried to reach for Alex’s hair, but he always stopped himself as quickly as he started. Eventually, slowly and surely, he began to give way to the pleasure of it all. Often, they were desperate, and messy, and fucked each other with a hurried frenzy like they were still sneaking around the world to be together on stolen time. Others, like this time, and admittedly some of Henry’s favourites, were moments like these where Alex practiced everything he had learned over the last few years with measured method, allowing Henry to surrender to being taken apart piece by piece before shattering completely. The steady rhythm brought Henry closer and closer, the hot heavy weight of Alex’s tongue pressing up on the underside of his cock, until he could no longer hold off. Alex took a deep breath, and swallowed hard as Henry came into his mouth. The only sound Henry made is a rough gasp, but when Alex pulled himself off with one final suck, a laugh escaped his lips. He hauled Alex up to be kissed fiercely again, and he rolled them over so that he pinned Alex down to the bed, straddling his hips. Alex loved the way Henry was always desperate to taste himself on Alex’s tongue; it was so erotic, intimate, and sensual, but it also reminded him of their first time, of his first time ever giving a blow job. It’s a fond memory. The thought was quickly thrown from his mind as Henry began to return the favour, and Alex was a bit overeager and craving the touch after being so worked up by getting Henry off. It didn’t take long for Alex to finish either, though he came with many more words, both curses and praise, loud, alive, lost in the present, the way he always is.

Even though they were both slick with sweat, they still enjoyed snuggling up together to ride out their post-orgasm glow together. Alex laid on his back and held out his arm so that Henry could curl up to his chest. Henry threw his leg over Alex’s so he was now wrapped around him like a koala on a branch, his favourite cuddling position.

“Despite everything, I still think today was a good day,” Alex said, threading his fingers through Henry’s thoroughly mussed up hair.

“Yes, I think it was,” Henry agreed, “I think it was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience as I work out the end of this story - we're almost to the finish line now! A shout out to my pals in the RWRB Discord for some great Twitter handles. 
> 
> I'm absolutely honoured that we're going to be hitting 3K soon. When I started writing this, I never could have imagined anyone besides myself ever reading it. I feel super lucky.  
> Thanks everyone for your support, the kudos, the comments, it means the world to me!


	11. but the rain is always gonna come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas and New Years - it's the most wonderful time of the year.

_PRINCE PHILIP AND PRINCESS MARTHA ANNOUNCE FIRST PREGNANCY_

_The Sun UK, December 23rd, 2022   
  
_

_A very special announcement came ahead of the Queen’s official Christmas Day address this year. The Prince of Wales and his wife released a formal statement this morning stating that they are expecting twins after 3 years of marriage. Perhaps the first Christmas Address from new Queen Catherine will be overshadowed by the exciting news from her son and daughter-in-law? The country has been waiting with bated breath for this news for some time; there has even been speculation that the late Queen Mary had been quite critical of Martha for being unable to produce heirs shortly after the royal wedding. His Royal Highness Prince Philip’s children will be next in the line of succession, superseding Prince Henry and Princess Beatrice, respectively. It seems less than likely that either of those royal siblings will be following suit with pregnancy announcements any time soon—_

“Alright, alright, you’ve read enough,” Henry groaned.

“Aw, I was just getting started!” Alex teased.

“You know that this is the type of shite that makes me freak out about having kids of our own, right? I rest my case about abdication. No one will ever hear from us again!” He gave Alex a lopsided grin over his shoulder, but Alex still felt a bit sheepish and shoved his phone quickly back into his pocket. Sure, they’d talked about having children a few times since that initial conversation a few months back, but the subject still gave Alex a nervous flutter in his gut that sent electric tingles into his fingers and toes. Henry didn’t like talking about the royalty thing much, and abdication felt even more sensitive. The last thing he wanted was to make Henry second guess the very vague plans they had; Alex had started a mental list.

One: They wanted children.

Two: They didn’t care if they were theirs biologically; surrogates were an option, but adoption was something that was also important to them.

Three: Henry wanted to abdicate before having children and remove themselves from the public eye, and Alex had more than enthusiastically agreed to this.

Four: It probably wouldn’t be for another five years, or more.

“All right?” Henry said gently, realizing Alex had been glued in place, lost in thought.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, just thinking,” he said, snapping back to attention. 

They were _supposed_ to be packing up their things to head to D.C. for Christmas, but Alex had gotten unsurprisingly distracted by other things. Henry patiently folded shirts and pants and underwear and socks into their suitcases as Alex hurried around the house like he was lit on fire from behind, and of course, in the midst of it, had insisted upon reading the royal family’s breaking news from all the hottest sources since his phone would not stop vibrating. There certainly was nothing like tabloids to get into the spirit of the season.

Alex was particularly excited to be staying in the States for the holidays, claiming that the American traditions were far superior to the British ones. They had spent the previous Christmas at Kensington as a part of the peace bargain that had allowed Henry to move in with Alex at the brownstone. It had also involved some bland appearances and posturing, and of course, attempting to get Alex’s approval ratings up in the UK. This year, with Catherine as queen, she readily accepted Henry’s request to be able to spend nearly two precious weeks at the White House with Alex’s family.

“What was I doing in here, anyways?” Alex asked, ruffling the hair on the back of his head in thought. “I was getting David’s food ready to go, but then I realized we didn’t have any snacks for us on the flight… so I started getting those ready… but then I didn’t want to forget any of the presents…” He ran his hand through his hair, and scanned the room to see if he could jog his memory.

“So you came up here to grab them from the closet?” Henry offered, smiling. He moved to the ensuite to pack up their toiletries. Despite Henry trying to be subtle, Alex didn’t miss that he slipped the travel-size lube bottle into the bag as well.

“Ah! Yes, thank you, sweetheart. What would I do without you?” Henry chuckled as Alex came over to give him a quick kiss, and maybe give his ass a playful squeeze. “I’m so excited. I love Christmas with you.”

“You too, darling. I hope you got me something good,” Henry swatted Alex’s behind in return. “I have been on my best behaviour this year.” The quick kiss had turned into a few more kisses, and before Henry knew it, Alex had seated himself on the bathroom counter, wrapping his legs around Henry’s waist, sucking on his neck and snaking his hands under Henry’s shirt and over the hard planes of his back.

“We… still have to finish… getting ready,” Henry insisted, though his lips were quite preoccupied.

“Hrmph,” Alex grumbled against his mouth. “Fine.” After one final kiss, he slid back down from the counter and begrudgingly got to work on the rest of his tasks. He even managed to wrangle David into a Christmas sweater before setting off to the airstrip. The streets blurred past them, decorations of all colours setting the whole city alight with wonder, a soft dusting of snow casting a festive air onto all of the busy New York pedestrians. As much as Alex missed Texas and the feeling of home, there was something truly special about getting to experience the classic New York Christmas, skating at Rockefeller Plaza and the giant tree, the New Year’s ball waiting to drop in Times Square, the quintessential American holiday extravaganza. And on top of it all, he got to do all of these things with Henry: create new traditions, choose the decorations for the brownstone, pick out matching ugly sweaters, decorate terribly assembled gingerbread houses, and experience the magic for the first time, together.

When they made it onto the plane, shaking the snow off their shoulders, June was, shockingly, already there. The seat beside her had a stack of identically wrapped presents and her open laptop, the tray table beside her held her usual vanilla latte. David made straight for her and jumped into her lap without a backwards look at his dads.

“Hi, boys! Merry Christmas!” June greeted them with a smile. Her lips were a festive sparkly red, perfectly matching her rather obnoxiously bedazzled sweater. “Hi Cash, Shaan,” she waved at the men, who nodded stoically and waved back at her before making their way to their own spots across the cabin.

“Merry Christmas, Junebug. I would hug you but…” Alex gestured at her lap.

“You’d rather not disturb the dog? He does seem oh-so-comfortable already,” June smirked back at him. “Come sit! I want to give you presents!”

“You don’t want us to wait until Christmas morning?” Henry asked. Traditions were quite strict in his family, and it was borderline blasphemous to suggest opening presents before the 25th.

“Don’t be stupid. Plus, it’s like, not a big deal. You can open your real presents on Sunday, this is just for fun.” Her eyes were bright and earnest as she thrust the two matching packages into their hands before they had barely even taken their seats across from her. Henry picked at the tape with his fingernails, carefully prying the edges of the wrapping paper up, making sure not to rip it, while Alex tore his package open in a matter of seconds. They looked at each other, then back at their gifts: a thick, glossy hardcover embossed with the words _The Shadow of a Lady_ in gold, overtop of a photo of June’s face in profile, her hair cascading down her shoulder, down to the bottom edge of the cover. It was beautiful. Alex turned it over in his hands, and he quickly read the back dust jacket, filled with quotes of praise from popular authors and book critics from various magazines and newspapers.

_“June Claremont-Diaz’s The Shadow of a Lady is an instant classic. It’s simply a stunning piece of writing.”_

_“Claremont-Diaz shares her past, present, and future with the reader in The Shadow of a Lady. An absolute must read not just for millennials, but for all generations.”_

_“The Shadow of a Lady is so much more than a memoir, it’s an open and honest story of the life of an ambitious young woman living her life in the international spotlight as well as an incisive commentary on American politics, racism, and homo- and bi-phobia.”_

_“I can’t say enough about Claremont-Diaz’s debut The Shadow of a Lady. For every mixed race girl who feels confused about her place in the world or for any young person looking to make their mark, this book is an absolute must-read.”_

“June…” Alex begun to say, but truthfully, he was quite speechless. Henry found words for them instead, congratulating her with so much sincerity it made Alex’s heart ache, and they both jumped up to awkwardly wrap their arms around her while she reached out over David’s body to hug them in return.

“It’s truly incredible, Bug. I am stupid proud of you. I don’t even have words, which is…”he finally managed to say.

“Rare?” June laughed. “I know. I’m so glad you like them. Now you understand why you didn’t need to wait for Christmas morning, I thought it would be a good surprise! I know they don’t come out for another three months but this was the first rough print and I wanted you guys to have early copies. You can open them, if you want.” She winked at them, “Just promise me you won’t resell them for a ton of money for my very valuable signature.”

Inside the front cover they found personalized inscriptions, thanking them both for their support and to Henry, for giving her thoughtful edits in addition to an encouragement to try publishing his own work some day. Pride didn’t even begin to quite cover what Alex was feeling. As his big sister, June had always been a role model, and his confidant, and, quite frequently, a pain in the ass… but once he was holding the real weight of it in his hands, he realized that the reasons he looked up to her couldn’t be confined within the pages of a book, couldn’t exactly be described in words. But still, he was inspired by June, and he could only hope that her work would inspire so many other young people of colour to see their place in a world that was so frequently hostile towards them, to see that they could live in the White House, too, that they could be strong, powerful, smart, and beautiful, without having to sacrifice who they are as a person. The way that June had done.

After a quick flight and a short escorted drive through D.C. from the airstrip, they arrived at the White House. It was quite clear that the administration had spared no expense in covering every inch of the historic building in festive decor. There were real spruce garlands around every banister, every tree on the lawn festooned with enormous baubles, intricately wrought menorahs in all of the biggest windows. Alex had to slap Henry’s hand away from the perfectly-to-scale chocolate replica of the Oval Office, to which Henry pointedly whispered, “What’s the point of it being made out of chocolate if you can't eat it?”

Once they had settled their things into Alex’s old bedroom, and had sufficiently re-christened it in homage to their first clandestine hookup, they met the rest of the family back in their favourite comfortable living room where they always kept their Christmas tree. The bottom half of it was almost entirely obscured by the towering stacks of presents, all pristinely wrapped with laser-sharp precision, obviously Leo’s handiwork. Ellen couldn’t even cut wrapping paper for the life of her, and Alex could spy her tell-tale gift bags stuffed with tissue paper scattered amongst the rest of the boxes, too. Henry, bless him, had taken charge of neatly wrapping each gift in recyclable brown craft paper, tying each one up with twine and a bundle of dried citrus, or little sprigs of rosemary. For all of the ribbing Alex had given him for it, he had to admit— they looked beautiful. With the yule log crackling on the television, classic Elvis Christmas music coming through the speakers, the mugs filled with eggnog and of course, spiced rum, his loved ones all piled on the sofas around him, Alex had to admit: he really fucking loved the holidays.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the doorframe. A small group of people were huddled there behind Zahra, all dressed in old-fashioned outfits with bustles, petticoats and vests and jackets with coattails. One of the men was even wearing a top hat.

“Are there fucking carollers here for us? Are we about to be fucking serenaded?” Alex whispered out of the side of his mouth. 

“No, not us. Just for me, I think, seeing as I’m the most important person here.” Henry said, his lips fighting their instinct to curl upwards into a stupid grin, like he always does when he thinks he’s being funny.

“Excuse me? What makes you so special?” Alex smirked back at him, poking a finger into his chest.

“I’m very serenade-able.”

“You know, you gripe about the royal family but I have to say, Your Highness, I think you like the attention.” He pressed a kiss into Henry’s hair. He didn’t mind giving him the attention, anyways.

They stifled their giggles as Zahra led the little chorus into their quarters, and they began a cheery rendition of Sleigh Bells. It was just the perfect amount of ridiculous to fit his family, all the alcohol in his system making him warm and fuzzy and amiable enough to listen to ten whole minutes of festive singing. Of course they would have fucking personal carollers at their family hangout like they were straight out of a Hallmark Christmas movie. Alex wanted to be mad about the cliché of it all, but curled up into Henry’s side, he couldn’t bring himself to care. The crackling firelight, though fake, still throws the sharp angles of Henry’s face into relief, and fills his pale skin with a warm glow. His eyes light up as he laughs, full-bellied, at a stupid joke that June made, unreserved, completely at home. And Alex? Well, Alex is so in love he could die.   
  


* * *

  
It was finally Christmas morning. The sun had already entered the room, illuminating tiny motes of dust as they danced in its beam. It was bright, almost unseasonably so, a crisp, clean light that Alex felt like he hadn’t seen in ages. As he made his way to the bathroom, he snuck a peek out of the window to see the White House lawn covered in a thin blanket of snow, scintillating and nearly blinding to Alex’s sleepy eyes. They were getting a white Christmas! So maybe every Christmas with Henry’s pasty ass was arguably a white one, but that was besides the point. There was something special about looking out of the window to see the fluffy white flakes floating through the sky, elating his inner child. That and the anticipation of getting to open some presents soon. He wasn’t above admitting that, at least to himself.

Once he had brushed his teeth and put on his Christmas pyjamas (candy canes, of course, so that he could match Henry’s— a gift from Bea last year), he slipped out of the room to make himself a coffee, and a cup of English Breakfast tea for Henry. When he came back to his room with the drinks on a tray, accompanied by two fresh cinnamon buns, Henry had finally woken up, though he was still in his boxers, his hair sleep-rumpled and infuriatingly gorgeous. The bed was made, and Henry had arranged their gifts to each other in the centre of it. His eyes lit up when he saw Alex come in.

“Happy Christmas, darling,” he smiled.

“That’s a Merry Christmas to you too, baby,” Alex replied. They kissed tenderly for a moment before Alex set the tray down on his bedside table.

“Time for presents?” Alex said as he climbed back into the bed, settling against the pillows and headboard, across from where Henry sat at the foot.

“Yes, and I’d like for you to go first,”

“Why? What if I want you to open yours?”

“Because I said so.” Henry smiled his dazzling smile at him, and Alex couldn’t argue with that very sound logic when he was ever so captivated by the curve of Henry’s soft pink lips and remarkably straight teeth. So Alex huffed a little and pulled the present across the bed into his lap. It felt heavy. He plucked the small box off the top first, but that one was remarkably light.

“Yours are the only gifts I never want to just tear right open,” he said softly, plucking away at the tape and feeling a little sentimental. A small black cardboard box was revealed from underneath the paper. The lid slid off easily, and sitting on a soft bed of foam was a thin silver chain; when he picked it up it cascaded into his hand, and he could see it was quite long, the length would reach to the middle of his chest. He realized Henry’s intention almost immediately. He looked up into his bright blue eyes that were watching Alex’s every movement to gauge his reaction. 

“Your current one is getting a little beat up… I noticed a little while ago that the clasp was barely hanging on, so I thought you might like a new one,” Henry gushed, clearly nervous and excited to explain himself all at once. “I hope you like it, we can exchange it if you’d prefer—“

But Alex cut him off with an enthusiastic kiss, holding his face with both of his hands.

“No, Henry, it’s perfect. I love it. Thank you so much, sweetheart,” he pulled his old worn chain up over his head and quickly unfastened the very busted up clasp, and slid the key and signet ring out into his palm. He threaded them both back onto the new chain, and as he closed the lobster claw hook, he noticed it was engraved with the tiny initials A + H. Alex swallowed hard and slipped this perfect gift back over his head.

“Thank you. Really, Henry. This is… it’s amazing,” he said, and gave Henry yet another kiss. But before it could become more heated, much to Alex’s surprise, Henry pushed him away and insisted on him opening the second, much larger box. It clinked as Alex pulled it towards himself and he shot Henry a quizzical look, but he just shrugged and pretended to be confused too, as though he wasn’t the one who was giving it to him. Eventually, exerting every last ounce of his self control, Alex carefully opened this gift, too, to find it full of tiny packages of his favourite Mexican treats and candies, nestled around 12 glass bottles of Mexican Coke.

“Best. Christmas present. Ever!” Without hesitation, Alex ripped open a Vero Mango sucker and popped it in his mouth. Henry looked incredibly pleased with himself knowing that he had hit the mark on his gifts for the year. Even though Alex was always thrilled with whatever he got, Henry was always still worried he would misstep and purchase something Alex wouldn’t absolutely adore. Henry knew that he would love anything Alex gave him, no matter what, but somehow had a difficult time understanding it worked the other way around, too.

“Now you go,” Alex said, his voice garbled from trying to speak around the candy in his mouth.

“Okay, okay, what do we have here?” Henry lifted the box to his ear, shaking it lightly. Alex tried not to scream or squirm at all while Henry painstakingly opened the package he had wrapped.

“Alex…” Henry whispered, when he finally pulled away the tissue paper to reveal what was in the box. He gently, almost reverently, picked up the book that laid inside, sky blue cover slightly worn around the edges. He opened it with a soft gasp, leafing through the yellowed pages, admiring the remarkably bright inked illustrations amongst the text.

“Illustrated versions of Pride & Prejudice are exceptionally rare… especially in this excellent of condition,” Henry flipped to the first page. His voice was soft and reverent as he ghosted his fingers above the brightly inked pictures. “Published in 1945! Alex, this is incredible, thank you,” he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Alex’s lips, unable to truly convey his happiness in words, though the kiss didn’t quite feel like enough either.

“I wanted to get you an original edition—” Alex started, until Henry interrupted with a sound that Alex could only describe as a snort. “Yeah, I know. That one was a bit out of budget…”

“I thought we said we’d stick with smaller gifts as to not get carried away with our lavish lifestyle,” Henry smiled, gesturing vaguely around the White House bedroom.

“Well I didn’t know it would be like, twenty-something thousand dollars when I first came up with the idea!” Alex tried to defend himself.

Next they had David open up his little Christmas stocking, which they had stuffed full of new bones, bags of treats, and a plush toy in the shape of a donut with red and green sprinkles, which he immediately started squeaking. Henry insisted on getting just the right shot of David surrounded by all of his gifts, as well as one of the two of them, for posterity.

With the presents opened, Alex pulled Henry back up to the head of the bed to have a quiet moment wrapped up in each others arms. Basking in the most glorious sun, they kissed lazily in bed for what felt like ages, breakfast forgotten on the bedside table. Somehow, in some way, each Christmas they spent together was better than the last; it didn’t even matter what country they were in or whose family they were seeing. None of it mattered when he was with Henry. As he ran his fingers through Henry’s hair, content as could be, he realized something: Alex was ready for a whole lifetime of sweet, quiet, Christmas mornings that lay ahead of them. 

* * *

The rest of their holiday at the White House flew by in a whirlwind, though it was difficult for them to say what they actually did. It had been a while since Alex didn’t have to think about making dinner or household chores or what next assignment he had due; it all came as a very welcome break and they took the relaxation up to new heights. The only thing they were responsible for was the Young American’s New Years Eve Gala, which they, of course, had been looking forward to all year. After all of the formalities and tumult and tradition, the White House Trio and their British counterparts were ready to let loose and simply have a good time. Alex couldn’t wait to get out on the dance floor and make obscene gestures and suggestive hip movements at Henry, bodies pressing up against them from every side, insides buzzing with the tingling charm of champagne.

Much to everyone else’s surprise, the matching outfits for the Super Six had been Henry’s idea. While the Coronation had perhaps been the most highly publicized fashion event of the year, the group wanted to make a much bigger statement with the Legendary Balls-Out Bananas White House Trio New Years Eve Party. Something people would talk about as an iconic moment even years from then. Something that would cause a stir - maybe even make conservatives hate them more than they already did. Something that would make Queen Mary roll over in her tomb. Something that felt like _them_ , not something that was masterminded or even approved, by the crown or White House staff. So all six of them commissioned skin-tight black tuxedos, with sparkling gold and silver filigree and floral embroidery gracefully adorning every inch of the fabric, with black velvet bowties on crisp white shirts with golden buttons and cufflinks. Black ankle boots with low block heels, black nail polish, gold eye shadow, cheekbones highlighted to diamond perfection. Ariana Grande herself would have been envious of the girls and their slick sky-high ponytails. Nora had even allowed her hair to be straightened. It was the most beautiful any of them had ever looked, and all together? Well, it was a total showstopper.

Needless to say, their grand entrance was met with raucous applause and #SuperSixSoHot began trending on Twitter within minutes. Alex felt confident, self-assured, but he felt borderline fucking invincible with Henry and the rest of his family by his side. He didn’t think there was anything that could top this feeling, this high that was being on top of the world, and then getting lifted even further into the air. When the first few notes of Get Low finally dropped, Alex just about lost his fucking mind. Then Rihanna’s new song came on, and the crowd went wild again; Pez was twirling Bea around in circles while Nora had jumped onto Henry’s back and was whooping wildly, swinging her arm around with an imaginary lasso. It was amazing, incredible. Song after song, beat after beat, the six of them stayed loosely connected, always in the peripherals of each other’s vision, never further. Even in their day to day lives, miles apart, it was still possible to feel this close. Alex tried to savour it, mark every second into his mind, preserving it so that he could look back on it with crystal clear perfection for years to come. No photos could do it justice, but he could try to bottle up the warmth in his chest, the perfection of this moment, to carry with him long after the glitter had washed off and the suit jacket didn’t fit anymore.

After all of the highs and the lows of the last year, Alex was incredulous that they still wound up here, the same as so many years before, and yet everything was so different. They only had two more years to throw this ridiculous party, and after that? It would be somebody else’s responsibility, if the new president even had children to throw such an event.

“What are you thinking about?” Henry said, close to Alex’s ear. “I fear I’ve lost you.” He smiled, eyes meeting Alex’s. They stood with their backs against the bar, looking out across the crowded room filled with sparkling bodies and enormous floral arrangements. Alex’s eyelids felt heavy from the alcohol, but in a relaxed way, as he rested his head against Henry’s shoulder.

“I was just thinking how this party is the same thing every year, one thing that’s constant, even when the rest of the year is off the fucking rails. Like this year. It feels like nothing’s changed when we’re on this dance floor again, even though everything has. And we only have two more chances at it, then we’ll have to mark our new year with some other new tradition.”

Henry pressed his lips to Alex’s forehead. “I can be okay with new traditions. Doesn’t matter, as long as we’re together.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right. I just can’t help but feel nostalgic for something that isn’t even behind us yet. Is that weird? You know, cause this is like, our thing, and I want to keep having… our special thing. I don’t know if that makes any sense.” He pauses for a beat, looking up into Henry’s eyes, the blue of them unbelievably bright when outlined in black eyeliner. Alex tried again, trying to speak straight from his chest. “It might sound stupidly sentimental, I don’t know. But it’s the anniversary of our first kiss, where everything started… where you and me became an us.” He wasn’t sure if Henry’s cheeks became more pink or if it was the flush of the alcohol blooming underneath his skin.

“No, it makes perfect sense, my love. Of course you don’t want this to be over, I know I’m always going to see this as the time and place where everything changed for me. And God, for what it’s worth, I’m still so sorry I was such a prick that night. I was, in my defence—”

“Very drunk, yes. You’ve told me so every New Year’s Even since.” Alex turned to face Henry now, getting very close to him, right into his space. When he spoke, Henry could feel his breath touch his lips. Alex swallowed deliberately, and continued, “In fact, I’m quite sure you have made it up to me outside under that very linden tree every year since, as well.” Alex was certain now that the blush Henry was now wearing wasn’t alcohol induced. He ran his finger down the lapel of his tuxedo jacket. “Meet me there in 15 minutes, pretty boy, and you’d best be on your knees.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, guys. 
> 
> If you're still here, wow, THANK YOU. I literally cannot believe that it's been like almost 3 months since I've updated this fic. I wanted to add a special bonus holiday chapter to be published on Christmas Day and, well, as you can see, things sort of got away from me. 
> 
> After this, there's actually just the epilogue left, but it should be pretty hefty. I will make absolutely no promises about the release date for that... 
> 
> Anyways. Your support, as always, is so greatly appreciated. <3


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